wouldn’t have done…that,” she said after a moment.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jake laughed humorlessly. “Look, if we’re going to be stuck together, I’ve got one rule.”
She leaned back in the chair, blinking back what he hoped to God weren’t tears. “I’m not very good at rules.”
“All I want is for you to be straight with me,” he said. “That means no games. No lying. No tricks. If you can’t tell the truth, then don’t say anything. Do you think you can abide by that?”
She pressed her lips together. “I wasn’t going to…you know, sleep with you.”
“If you weren’t going to sleep with me, just what the hell did you have in mind?”
“Well…I thought maybe…I thought maybe I could distract you.”
“Distract me?” Jake gritted his teeth. “Some other bozo in my position might have taken you up on your offer. Some unscrupulous cop might have wanted more than you were willing to give. Then where would you be?”
“I’d still be in the same predicament I’m in now.”
“Yeah? And what’s that? Paying your debt to society?”
“Going back to prison for a crime I didn’t commit.”
“You’re going to have to come up with something a little more original than that because I’ve been in this business a long time, and I’ve heard every lie in the book.”
“You want original?” She stood abruptly, trembling and pale, tears shimmering on ashen skin. “The night before I escaped, somebody tried to kill me. I had two choices. Leave or die. So I left. Is that original enough for you?”
Chapter 4
Abby told herself the shaking was from the cold, but she knew it wasn’t. She wanted to believe the tremors racking her body were because she was scared and desperate and furious that her plan to escape had been foiled. But she knew the knot in her gut and racing pulse had more to do with the way the tall cowboy with the unfriendly eyes and dangerously sensual mouth had looked at her when she’d had her body pressed against his.
Holy cow, she’d almost kissed him! A cop, for God’s sake. A man who was going to do his utmost to ruin any chances she had of saving her life. A man who was apparently hardened and cynical—and not nearly as vulnerable as she’d thought.
The most lethal kind of man there was—at least to a woman in her position.
Abby wasn’t above using her feminine charms to get what she wanted. She’d seen the way he looked at her; she’d seen the heat in his eyes, discerned the weakness that made men predictable. Of course, she wouldn’t have let things go too far; she had her limits. But she definitely would have gone far enough to get the job done. She wasn’t sure what that made her. Desperate perhaps. She could live with that. She’d learned to live with a lot of things in the past year.
Of course, she wouldn’t have to compromise herself now that Mr. By-the-Book had thwarted her plans. Damn him. Maybe she was in a lot more trouble than she’d ever imagined.
Abby realized then that she was going to have to be careful with this man. She’d nearly crossed a line. She’d nearly done something irrevocable. Something that would have made her hate herself. She’d nearly made a mistake that would have cost her another piece of her soul. Worse was the realization that for a crazy instant, she wondered if she might even enjoy it.
Oh, dear God, maybe she was crazy.
The cowboy stared at her, his thick brows riding low over eyes filled with a cop’s skepticism. “Good try, Blondie. You get a gold star for originality, but I’m still not buying it.”
She met his gaze levelly. “It’s true.”
“And I’m the Easter bunny.”
“I don’t care if you believe me or not.”
“Why are you trying so hard to convince me, then?”
“Because you’re my last hope.”
He took another step back, a predator who’d just been swiped by the nasty claws of a much smaller, but infinitely dangerous prey. “I meant what I said about playing games,” he said. “That includes making up stories. You got that?”
“That isn’t a story, and I sure as hell don’t consider my life a game.”
“Neither do I.”
“Maybe you just don’t give a damn.”
“I give a damn—about the law. I’ve got a job to do. A job that’s not always pleasant. You’re not making it any easier for either of us.”
A gust of wind rattled the door in its frame. Dragging her gaze away from him, Abby looked out the grimy window to the swirl of white beyond. Despair pressed down on her. She felt trapped, like a rabbit caught in a snare with a pack of dogs waiting to tear it to shreds.
“That storm’s not going to let up any time soon.” His voice caught her gaze. He was watching her, his expression as hard and steely as his eyes. “Let’s try to get through this without any more problems, all right?”
“I’m innocent,” she said. “I didn’t kill anyone. I was framed, and I’m going to prove it. I just need—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He raised a hand to silence her. “I’m taking you back and that’s the end of it.”
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she blinked them back with fierce determination. She would not cry in front of this man. She hadn’t cried in front of anyone for a long, long time. She refused to start now. If Abby Nichols had anything at all left, it was pride. Crying never helped much anyway.
Still, she was thankful when he turned away. Some of the tension drained out of her when she didn’t have to meet that cold-steel gaze of his. She wasn’t going to waste her time trying to convince him of her innocence. Not this hard-headed lawman who saw the world in stark black and white. Her only hope was to gain his trust one inch at a time, then slip away when he wasn’t expecting it. If she didn’t get a chance—if he didn’t give her the chance—she would just have to make one.
“There are a some instant meals in my saddlebag,” he said after a moment. “Why don’t you pull out a couple, and we’ll eat?”
Abby’s stomach growled at the mention of food. She hadn’t eaten since the previous night, and after a physically grueling day she was starved. Without looking at him, she started toward the saddlebag he’d dropped near the door. Kneeling next to the bag, she opened the leather flap. Four individually packaged meals were stacked neatly, along with a collapsible container of water. She removed two of the meals.
“All you have to do is open the meal,” he said from across the room. “There’s a chemical inside that heats the food.”
She turned to ask him how that worked, but the sight of him standing with his back to her—his butt as bare as a baby’s—made her gasp in shock. She knew better than to stare,
