nothing. Jake squinted hard. He took a step to the left. The brightest light remained focused on the Tundra but another light followed him.
Headlights and a flashlight. Addison—it had to be her—was using both.
He couldn’t see a thing.
“Hey,” he shouted. “Didn’t you hear me? Turn off those lights.”
Still no response. Jake grunted, moved another few steps from the truck….
The flashlight beam settled on him and held.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He’d had enough of being a living target to last him a lifetime.
“Turn that thing away from me,” he said coldly. “Do it now.”
Survival instinct, honed in a place thousands of miles and many centuries away, kicked in.
This wasn’t Texas anymore.
Jake dropped to the ground and rolled, not toward the truck as the enemy might predict, but away from it, into scrub and darkness.
Everything in him focused on that beam of light.
His heart rate slowed. The sounds of the night faded; he could hear his opponent’s breaths.
The beam of light moved. Swept over the truck. Over the ground. It was searching for him.
Jake rolled again. Pressed himself to the earth ten or twelve feet from the road.
Wait, he told himself. Wait for the right instant, for the opportunity that always presented itself if you were ready….
“Show yourself,” a voice called.
Addison McDowell’s voice.
It shot him back to reality. This wasn’t some hell-begotten dirt track in Afghanistan, it was Texas. And the person with the flashlight wasn’t the enemy, it was simply a woman who’d been frightened by the headlights following her home.
He let out a long breath.
“Addison. Hey. It’s Jake Wilde. You don’t have to—”
The beam of light swept over the road, the truck, the scrub. It would find him soon. Jake started to rise.
“Addison? Listen, I understand why you’re upset—”
“All you need to understand is that I have a gun. And I damn well know how to use it.”
Jake dropped to his belly, fast. A gun? Impossible. Where would she get a …
From the Chambers house, of course. The old man had kept a dozen guns, rifles, shotguns, automatics. He’d been the worst kind of hunter, shooting anything that moved.
Hell.
This wasn’t good.
Jake cleared his throat.
“Addison. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“I’m going to start counting, Captain. By the time I get to five, you’d better be on your feet with your hands in the air.”
“Did you hear me? You don’t want to have an accident with that thing—”
“Shooting you won’t be an accident.”
“Goddammit, woman—”
The light swept past him.
“One,” she said. “Two.”
It came to a stop, inches from his head.
“Wait. Listen to me. All I want is—”
“I know exactly what you want.”
He blinked.
There was no mistaking what she meant. The only response he could think of was “uh-oh,” but he had the feeling that wasn’t going to do it.
“You’re wrong,” he said quickly. “I don’t—”
“Three,” she said, no hesitancy in her voice at all.
Jake took a breath, shot to his feet, focused his sight to the left of the light in hopes it wouldn’t blind him and ran to where he figured she was standing.
He hit her, hard, just as he’d planned, his shoulder driving into her with enough force to take them both to the ground.
The flashlight flew from her hand.
Then she was under him, legs spread, arms raised, fingers clawing for his face. He grunted, grabbed for her wrists and struggled to immobilize her.
Her knee came up. She didn’t have a lot of leverage but she jammed it into his groin anyway, hard enough to make him gasp.
He flung himself against her, pinned her with his body, his hands clasping hers, holding them out to the sides.
“Listen to me,” he said roughly. “I’m not here to hurt—”
She struck like a snake, head coming up, teeth sharp as tiny knives sinking into his throat.
He jerked back.
“For God’s sake, woman, will you listen?”
“I’ll kill you,” she gasped. “So help me, I’ll—”
“I came to apologize.”
“You do this to me, I swear—”
“I came here to apologize, dammit!”
She grunted. Wriggled. It was like wrestling with a wildcat….
Except, this was a woman.
Warm.
Lithe.
Silken.
They were two people in deadly combat—and yet, despite that, despite everything, Jake felt his duplicitous body coming alive.
Her hair smelled of flowers. Lily of the valley. Lilacs. He didn’t know enough about flowers to be able to identify the scent, he only knew that its fragrance was delicate and surprisingly old-fashioned.
Her breath was warm. Wine-scented. Her mouth would taste rich and sweet.
Her breasts were soft. God, she was soft. Sweet and soft. He thought what it would be like to sink into her, sink deep, have her wrap her legs around him.
In a heartbeat, he was aroused and erect and hard as a rock against her.
“Crap,” he growled, and he rolled away, shot to his feet, turned his back, stood with his head bent, his hands on his
