Falling for Her (16 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A
lthough Sugar’s blinds were closed, Jamie could see the outline of lights at their edges. He’d been sitting in his car outside her condo since dark, a silent sentry, guarding her. Was she getting ready to run? It still burned, overhearing her tell Maria it was time to move on. Did she just plan to take off without a word to him?

She had disappeared before their workday ended, and no one knew where she’d gone. When he hadn’t found her at the Buchanans’ house, he’d just known she’d gone home, even though it was the most dangerous place she could be.

“Damnit, Sugar, what the hell are you thinking?” He automatically pulled two dollars out of his pocket, putting them in his cup holder. His damn cuss jar was filling up fast. He pulled another dollar out, adding it to the first two.

It appeared that it was a good thing he’d remembered how Jake had put a tracking device in Maria’s purse before she had been kidnapped. If he hadn’t thought to do that . . . well, none of them wanted to consider the consequences. Before he left K2, Jamie grabbed a device as he thought it a good bet his lady might need tracking, too.

Another thing he’d done before leaving work: he had finally relented and Googled her name. Only two things had come up on a Sugar Darling living in Pensacola. One was an accident report when she’d backed into another car in the grocery store parking lot. Imagine that. The biggie though was the legal name change a little over two years ago from Sarah Dempsey to Sugar Darling. Funny that, as Sarah Dempsey had died forty years ago.

That had led him to research how to get a fake Social Security number, and he’d been surprised at how easy it was. So, she’d gotten a dead woman’s identity and then changed her identity, which told him she didn’t want a trail of her real name.

“Who are you, Sugar Darling?”

There was no record of her working at the Booby Palace, but that wasn’t surprising. The owner probably paid half his staff under the table. There was no record of her working anywhere actually. Her driver’s license was only a few months old, and for all intents, Sugar Darling was only two years old. If nothing else, the woman was smart. It also meant she’d lied to him when she said Sugar Darling was the name on her birth certificate. He should have taken her up on seeing it when she’d offered—although she probably had a fake one of those, too.

A car turned into the complex and he slid down in his seat. Anyone noticing him sitting in the dark, staring at the door of someone’s condo, would think he was up to no good and would likely call the cops.

The dark-colored sedan’s lights flicked off, and the vehicle slowed as it passed in front of Sugar’s condo. What he wouldn’t give for a pair of night-vision goggles. Why hadn’t he thought to grab a pair of those, too, before leaving for the day? All he could tell was that a man sat behind the wheel. The car pulled into a space two doors down, and Jamie waited for the occupant to get out. Instead, the man slinked down until his head was barely visible over the back of the headrest.

After a few minutes’ consideration, Jamie exited his car and slipped up behind the sedan, memorized the license number, then approached the driver’s window. The idiot was so busy watching Sugar’s door, he didn’t even notice Jamie when he pointed his finger and whispered, “Bang, you’re dead.”

Jamie tapped on the window and the man startled, accidently blowing the horn. With a roll of his eyes, Jamie motioned for the incompetent idiot to roll down his window. “Help you with anything?”

The man pushed himself up and glared. “Who the hell are you?”

“Neighborhood watch.” If the jerk hoped to intimidate him, he’d soon learn he was messing with the wrong person.

“I’m waiting on someone, so you can be on your way.”

When the window started to roll up, Jamie reached in and bent the guy’s index finger back. What was it with Sugar and these men he needed to protect her from?

“What the hell’s wrong with you, man? I told you I’m waiting for someone.”

The guy tried to pull his hand away but Jamie tightened his hold. “And I’m telling you I don’t believe you. If you don’t leave now, I’m calling the police. If you really are waiting for someone, the cops will get it sorted out.” With his free hand, he removed his cell from his pocket and held his thumb over the nine.

“Asshole,” the man growled, and then started his car.

Instinctively, Jamie knew the man was a private eye, working for whoever wanted Sugar. He let go of the finger and stood back, watching until the sedan disappeared down the road.
You get what you pay for, whoever you are, and obviously, you didn’t pay much.
There wasn’t a member on his team, including him, who would’ve gotten caught spying on anyone.

He shook his head in disgust, then eyed Sugar’s door. “We’re about to get some answers, sweetheart.” His knock wasn’t answered,
so he knocked again, harder. “I know you’re in there, Sugar. Open up.”

The door opened the two inches the safety chain allowed, and she peeked out, only one eye showing around the edge. “Jamie?”

“In the flesh. We need to talk.”

“Give me a minute to dress.”

“Are you naked?” Parts of him hoped for a yes, but his saner self knew it’d be best if she wore a burqa, covering her from head to toe. Even then, she’d probably manage to look sexy in the thing.

“No, but—”

“It’s important. Let me in.” Preferably, before her watcher took it in his head to return and caught him talking to her. The door closed, the chain rattling against the wood. When it swung open again, whatever he’d been about to say vanished.

An almost-sheer white cotton top with thin straps did little to hide her perfect breasts. The hem of her shirt stopped about two inches above her only other article of clothing—purple boxers barely covering the cheeks of her bottom.

God help him if he started drooling like a slobbering hound on the scent. Unable to control his eyes, his gaze roamed over her, down to her bare feet and blue painted toenails. She hiked one foot up, curling it behind her knee.

“What do you want from me, Jamie?”

He jerked his gaze up to hers.
Everything.
He pushed past her and closed the door behind him. To get his mind settled and off her bare legs and the rest of her, he roamed her living room. Stopping in front of a picture of a couple walking on the beach, a child of around three or four between them, he picked it up.

“This you and your parents?”

“Yeah,” she said, but her concentration was on the line her toes were making in the carpet.

The woman was lying through her teeth. Why would she claim as hers a photo of some miscellaneous pretend family? Unless he missed his guess, the picture had come with the frame. Setting the silver frame back in its place, he continued his inspection of her things with her following close behind. He was unnerving her, as was his intention. Nervous people tended to let things slip. Being close enough to feel her heat and smell her coconutty scent was setting him on edge—a thing he kept hidden. Barely.

“Stop touching my things, and tell me why you’re here.” She grabbed the porcelain cat from his hand and set it back on the shelf with a bang.

“Speaking of felines, where’s yours?” Thinking he’d gotten his lust under control, he turned to face her. Wrong. As long as she stood before him in that skimpy outfit, he was going to have trouble focusing.

“Sleeping over there on the counter,” she said, waving a hand toward the kitchen.

“What?”

She tilted her head, her brows furrowing. “Junior. You asked where he was.”

“Right.” The cat.
Pay attention eyes. Stay above neck level.
Because his disobedient orbs refused to listen and remained on her breasts, he turned away and strode to the dang cat. He was there for a reason, and it was not to see how fast he could get her undressed.

Jamie idly scratched Junior’s chin as his attention turned to the laptop standing open next to the cat. On the screen, a headline from a newspaper article caught his eye, and he quickly scanned it. Unsurprisingly, Sugar slammed the lid closed when she realized he was reading it, but he’d seen enough to get a name and more.

“Who’s Rodney Vanders?” Besides the chief of police of Vanders, South Carolina, who was currently on vacation in an undisclosed beach location.

“No one.”

Right. Nobodies—one likely from several generations of nobodies—got towns named after them every day. How was he supposed to help her if she refused to trust him? Maybe he should walk away, putting Sugar Darling out of his life. He eyed the door. If he was smart, he’d do exactly that.

A breath of air huffed out of her. “You said you needed to talk to me. About what?”

She looked so vulnerable standing there in her bare feet, her eyes wary . . . or was that fear in them? “You’re in troub—”

Her phone rang, scaring both her and the cat. Junior leapt off the counter and disappeared down the hall. Sugar held her hand over her heart and stared at the cell phone on the counter as if it might bite her if she touched it.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?”

Wide eyes lifted to his, and she shook her head.

Jamie picked it up. Caller blocked. Interesting. He punched Talk and brought the cell to his ear, but didn’t speak. At first, there was silence, then the sound of soft breathing.

Sugar tried to grab the phone from him, but he slipped his hand around her wrist and held on to her. He’d bet his next paycheck the breather was the chief of police of Vanders, South Carolina, and the bastard who had once tried to drown her to teach her a lesson. The man who’d put a scar on her shoulder with a belt or whip. The same one who had sent an ex-con to retrieve her.

After a brief internal debate, Jamie decided not to invite the man over for a little talk. Better to learn his enemy—rather, Sugar’s enemy—first. Once he knew what he . . . she was up against, he’d arrange a discussion with Mr. Vanders and invite him to leave Sugar alone or else. Not that he expected the man to give up that easily, but it’d only be fair to give him a chance to live another day.

Sugar tried to pull her arm away from Jamie’s hold on her. She desperately wanted to push him out the door, but his grip was unrelenting. Although she’d almost convinced herself earlier it hadn’t been Rodney calling and breathing into her ear, this second time pretty much snatched the hope out from under her feet.

For sure, it was time to pack up and leave, but the blue-eyed warrior taking up too much space in her kitchen seemed to think he had the right to nose into her business. She could almost see him brandishing a sword while daring the villain to take him on, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

But nothing about her life was funny, and that was the sad truth. Jamie wanted answers she couldn’t and wouldn’t give him. Rodney was not his problem. Not that she didn’t think Jamie could hold his own against the biggest bully to walk the face of the earth, but why should he? He owed her nothing.

Lusted after her, sure. She could see the heat in his eyes when he looked at her. But that didn’t give him the right to know the intimate details of her past. She’d be mortified should it come to that. Jamie was honorable, a man who’d gone to war to protect his country, a man who held himself to the highest standards while she was—as far as the law was concerned—a thief and an accessory to a murder.

No way could he ever love her.

“Let me go,” she said when he set the phone back on the counter. He dropped his hold on her so fast she stumbled backwards before catching her footing. With as much dignity as she could manage, she lifted her chin and put her hands on her hips. “Go home, Jamie. I don’t want you here.” That just might have been the biggest lie of her life.

His lips thinned in obvious displeasure. “So you’re okay with me leaving you alone even though there’s a man watching your condo? If I had to guess, I’d say a private eye hired by someone to keep an eye on you.” He glanced at the closed computer, then scowled. “Rodney Vanders, maybe? And what about the man we’re holding at K2? You forget about him, Sugar?”

Oh, God. Her knees gave out, and she sank to the floor. It was just all too much.

Jamie squatted in front of her and put his finger under her chin, lifting her face. “Sugar, what’s going on? You know I can help you. Why won’t you tell me?”

No, she couldn’t tell him. If she did and he decided to go after Rodney and got hurt, she’d never forgive herself. She had to leave as soon as she could get him out of her house. But first, there was one thing she wanted from him, to know how making love to a man was really supposed to be.

It would mean letting him put his penis in her, but he wasn’t Rodney and wouldn’t hurt her. That she knew to the bottom of her heart. Taking his hand, she stood, pulling him up with her, and turned toward the bedroom.

“Sugar?”

When he pulled her to a stop, she put a finger over his lips. “Don’t talk. Don’t ask questions. Don’t do anything but follow me.” No was in his eyes; she could see it clear as day. “Please, Jamie. I’ve never asked you for anything, but I’m asking for this. I need you to hold me, to make love to me. I need it like I’ve never needed anything in my life.”