Millionaire's Last Stand (8 page)

“You’re right,” she conceded. “We should have some dinner.”

He was already heading to the fridge. “I’ve got some leftover Chinese food from yesterday. We won’t be able to heat it up, but I like it better cold anyway.”

“Me too,” she admitted.

She couldn’t help but ogle the way the muscles of his back bunched and flexed as he bent into the fridge to pull out several white food cartons. Without those sexy black eyes on her, she drew in a calming breath and ordered herself to keep it together. So what if she hadn’t felt an attraction this strong to a man before?

If Cole could waltz around the kitchen pretending their kiss hadn’t affected him, then so could she.

Cole didn’t sleep a wink that night, and it wasn’t the sound of the rain battering the house or the roof’s moans of protest each time the wind hit it. His insomnia had been the direct result of the woman in the next bedroom.

The woman who needed a gun on hand in order to be in the same room as him.

As he’d lain in bed and stared up at the ceiling, he’d choked down the bitterness that coated his throat, and forced himself not to dwell on it. He didn’t blame Jamie for being cautious. Everyone else in town believed that he was a killer—so why wouldn’t the federal agent who’d come here to solve the case?

Still, it grated, knowing that the lighthearted conversation in the living room hadn’t been completely genuine. It wasn’t about a man and a woman getting to know each other. They were a cop and a murder suspect. Definitely not the foundation for a love connection.

Besides, he had no intention of getting involved with Jamie, no matter how much the kiss had affected him. In that moment, he’d been so grateful that she hadn’t been hurt in the storm that he’d given in to the reckless desire he felt for her. But her gun had been the kick in the ass he needed, a reminder of why he couldn’t be with her. With anyone.

During the night, he’d kept going back to the day he’d met Teresa, the thrill that had shot up his spine as the raven-haired beauty had approached his table, her lips curved in a teasing smile. How different his life would be if he’d simply stood up and walked out of that bar. Instead, he’d allowed himself to tumble headfirst into an uncharacteristic whirlwind affair, letting his lust for Teresa Matthews cloud all common sense. Why hadn’t he seen how wicked she was? Picked up on the toxic thread winding through her body?

Stupid fool that he was, he’d married the woman. And she’d poisoned him. Infected every inch of his life, to the point that he wasn’t sure he trusted his own judgment anymore.

Jamie Crawford wasn’t Teresa. He knew that. He
saw
it, from the perception exuded by her gorgeous violet eyes to the determination she displayed about this case. But he wasn’t going to jump headfirst into anything again. Or ever. Hell, just the notion of lowering the shield around his heart and letting another woman in made his palms grow damp.

By the time seven o’clock rolled around, he gave up on the illusion of sleep and climbed out from between the black silk sheets in his king-size bed. Outside, the storm had evidently moved on, leaving nothing but silence in its wake. And destruction, he noted in chagrin when he stared out the bedroom window at the front yard.

Tree branches littered the dew-covered grass and the shed at the edge of the driveway was all but gone. Wonderful. Three weeks ago, he’d spent four days building the damn thing and now his hard work was in tatters. He spotted the tin roof lying by Jamie’s car, inches from the thick tree trunk that had collided with the ground. The sun was a bright yellow ball in a clear blue sky, the heat of it warming Cole’s bare chest right through the windowpane. Looking at the cloudless sky, it was hard to imagine that a tropical storm had terrorized the town only hours ago.

After pulling a T-shirt over his head and slipping into a pair of gray sweatpants, he made his way downstairs, pleased to see that the power had come back on. The sheriff must have had the electric company up at the break of dawn.

Cole was just pouring himself a cup of coffee when he heard a canine yip and then Elmer bounded into the kitchen, his little paws slapping against the tiled floor. Jamie appeared a moment later, looking sleepy as she watched the small dog come to an excited halt in front of the food bowl they’d given him last night.

“Morning,” she murmured. “Mind if I give our tiny friend the rest of the salami?”

“Go for it. Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Cole busied himself with pouring the steaming hot liquid into a mug, but from the corner of his eye he couldn’t help but admire the tall, slender woman moving around his kitchen. She wore the black pants and dark blue collared shirt she’d donned yesterday, and the clothing still looked a little damp. Her hair had a slight wave to it too, as it hung down her back, the deep auburn tresses gleaming from the morning sunshine streaming into the kitchen.

She was an incredibly beautiful woman, even when tired and rumpled. His body tightened with arousal just looking at her. And his mind was anxious for more details about her. It troubled him that he wanted to know everything about Jamie Crawford. He knew she’d grown up poor, but there was so much more left to discover. Like why she’d joined the FBI, what she did in her spare time, her favorite movies.

What she would look like naked and moaning as he made love to her…

He nearly choked on his coffee. Man, definitely not the right train of thought. Hadn’t he just decided that getting involved with this woman—with any woman—was a bad idea?

“Do you want me to drop Elmer off to his owner or will you?” Jamie asked as she sipped her drink, oblivious to the inappropriate thoughts running rampant in his head.

“I’ll do it when I go for a run.”

Her eyes twinkled. “You run?”

“Every morning,” he confirmed.

“Me too. It’s part of my routine—coffee, toast, a run and then work.”

“Maybe we could go running together while you’re here.”

The suggestion slipped out before he could stop it, and he regretted it immediately, especially when a flicker of reluctance crept into her lavender eyes. She didn’t want to get involved either, he had to remind himself. She’d told him so last night.

“Yeah, maybe,” she said noncommittally in reply to his offer. “If there’s time.”

Her words reminded him that she still had a murder case she was helping the sheriff solve, which made him think of his ex-wife again, and with that, his body stiffened, and this time it wasn’t from desire.

“Will you keep me posted on any progress you make?” he asked roughly.

“I’ll try.” She took a long swallow of coffee and shot him a tired look. “Let’s just hope there’s progress to be made.”

She hesitated as if she wanted to say more, and Cole crossed his arms over his chest. “What is it?”

“At some point, we’ll need to discuss your ex-wife’s affairs. I’m going to need more details.”

Pride tensed his jaw. “I told you everything I know about that. Parker Smith is the only one whose name she mentioned.”

Jamie put down her mug and bridged the distance between them, gently putting a hand on his arm. An instantaneous burst of heat seared through him.

“I know it’s uncomfortable to talk about, but anything you know about the affairs will help.”

He studied her face. “You think one of Teresa’s lovers may have killed her?”

“It’s a possibility.” She made a face. “Though apparently there was no limit to who she pissed off, so at this point, anyone and everyone is a possibility.”

He gave a derisive snort and was about to respond when the keypad by the back door buzzed, indicating that the gate had been disabled. Since Ian was the only other person who had the security codes, Cole wasn’t surprised when a few moments later footsteps sounded from the hallway and Ian called, “Cole? You awake?”

“In here,” he called back.

Ian appeared in the doorway, holding a black leather briefcase in one hand. “Morning, boss. I just flew in to—” He suddenly noticed Jamie. “Oh. Hello.”

“Ian, this is Special Agent Jamie Crawford,” Cole introduced. “She’s helping the sheriff with the case. Jamie, this is my assistant, Ian.”

Extending a graceful hand, Jamie greeted the younger man with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

After a moment of palpable confusion, Ian moved in for a handshake, then glanced at Cole in puzzlement. “The FBI is working the case now?”

“I’m here unofficially,” Jamie explained.

At seven o’clock in the morning?

Ian’s unspoken question hung in the kitchen, and Cole could see the cautious interest on Ian’s face.

“I came by to speak to Cole yesterday and got caught in the storm,” Jamie added.

At the mention of the storm, Ian shook his head in wonderment. “It’s incredible. Some parts of town look like a war zone. The statue in the town square toppled right into the fountain and there’re fallen trees everywhere. I saw a mention of the hurricane on the news last night, but didn’t think it would reach Serenade.”

“Well, it did,” Cole said. He slanted his head. “What are you doing back so soon? You only left yesterday afternoon.”

Ian held up the briefcase. “I’ve got the Hanson contracts for you to sign. He faxed them to the office last night, so I figured our pilot could have me here faster than it would take for a courier to get you the contracts. I knew you’d want to go over them ASAP.”

“I’m surprised Hanson cut the deal so quickly,” Cole said. “I appreciate your haste, Ian.”

Cole’s peripheral vision caught Jamie edging toward the door. “I should get going,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Thanks for the shelter from the storm.”

“Anytime,” he said lightly.

She hesitated in the doorway. “There’s the issue of the tree trunk blocking my car…”

“Shoot, right. Let us help you with that.”

The trio headed outside, where Cole and Ian heaved the soaking wet tree and moved it to the side of the driveway, allowing Jamie to reverse the SUV. She gave a little wave as she drove off and Cole noticed Ian watching her with a frown.

“It can’t be good, the Feds getting involved,” Ian commented as they walked to the house. The British inflection crept into his voice. “The case is still all over the news, and I’m afraid the company is starting to see the effects of Teresa’s death, boss.”

A frown puckered his brow. “What’s going on, Ian?”

They went back to the kitchen, sitting at the table as Ian slid a thick file folder in Cole’s direction. “First, here are the contracts.”

Cole extracted the papers from the folder and gave them a cursory glance. “Okay. What else?”

“Kendra Warner backed out of the hotel deal. She sold to George Winston.”

Cole let out a curse. Winston was his biggest rival, a developer who had no qualms about poaching potential clients and no ethics when it came to business. “Did she say why?”

Ian shrugged in discomfort.

“Ian.”

“She said she didn’t want to do business with a murderer.”

The soft-spoken revelation had Cole gritting his teeth. He’d already seen his stock take a hit thanks to the damn newspaper headline implicating him in Teresa’s death, but this was considerably worse. The Warner hotel would’ve been a cash cow for him.

Releasing a frustrated breath, he glanced at his assistant, his expression grave. “Anything else?”

“Chicago Imperial turned down our loan application for the Lakeshore shopping plaza.” Ian looked utterly miserable. “They feel you might be overextended, and that, uh, there’s a chance your assets may be frozen if you’re charged with a crime.”

“Damn it!” Cole slammed his hand on the tabletop, sending the papers flying. He quickly collected his composure and fixed the strewn contracts.

Funny, how Teresa seemed to be doing more damage in death than she had in life. The humiliation of her infidelities he could handle, but the destruction of his business? He’d built his empire from the ground up, worked himself to the bone to become successful and now he risked losing it all.

Ian hesitated, clearing his throat. “But I do have some other news.”

“Good or bad?” Cole muttered.

“You could look at it from both ways. We’ve had an offer for Donovan Enterprises.”

His breath jammed in his throat. “What?”

“Lewis Limited wants to buy us out.”

The air in his lungs slowly drained as he mulled over what Ian had said. Lewis Limited was another competitor, an outfit that had recently entered the real estate landscape and made a killing in housing developments. “I’m not selling,” he grumbled. “It’s ridiculous to even consider it.”

When Ian didn’t answer, a defensive edge laced Cole’s tone. “The case will be closed soon. Teresa’s killer will be caught and the public will know I’m not a murderer.”

“Did your FBI agent tell you that?” There was no mistaking the dubious pitch to Ian’s question.

“No, but I have confidence she’ll turn up some new leads. She’s smart, Ian. And good at her job, from what I can tell.”

Ian’s brown eyes searched Cole’s face. “You like her.” It was a statement, not a question. “She’s…nice.”

He almost rolled his eyes. Nice? Try drop-dead gorgeous. Wildly sexy. Or maybe intelligent and captivating was a more apt description. However you described her, Cole couldn’t deny that he was drawn to Jamie Crawford.

“She did seem nice,” Ian conceded. Then he sighed. “But let’s just hope she really is on our side, boss. The company is in trouble as long as the case remains unsolved, and if Agent Crawford is playing you, building a case behind your back while pretending to be open-minded…”

“She’s not.” The conviction he felt resonated in his voice.

“Like I said, let’s hope.” Ian’s next words brought a chill to Cole’s body. “Otherwise you’re in danger of losing everything you worked so hard for.”

After stopping at the B&B to shower and change, Jamie drove straight to the police station to see Finn, who spent twenty minutes describing to her the damage caused by the storm. He finished with, “At least I didn’t have to worry about coming to rescue you. You made it back to the B&B okay, right?”

Jamie fidgeted in her seat. “Actually, I didn’t. It started pouring as I was leaving, so I sought refuge at Cole Donovan’s.”