in her hands.
He was in for a real surprise.
Not only was she still alive, she was here, armed and in his hotel suite. No guards or restraints to stop her now. One way or another, she would get answers.
The doorknob rattled, and she heard voices in the hall. So he wasn’t alone. Sweet heaven, could nothing go right? Jessie softly groaned and ducked behind the thick brocade drapes. She’d still be able to see him by looking in the mirror over the fireplace, but she wouldn’t confront him until the other person left. Best not to draw anyone else into this.
Pulling in a hard breath, she leaned back against the cool glass of the balcony door. It didn’t ease the throbbing in her head, nor did it loosen the muscles that burned in her shoulders and back. Her body was a tangle of nerves and spent adrenaline. The bone-weary fatigue didn’t help, either. She’d been fighting off the effects of exhaustion for hours now.
Or had it been days?
God, she didn’t even know how long it had been since she managed to escape from that warehouse. For that matter, she had no idea how long they had held her captive. All she knew was that the person responsible was about to come through that door. He would answer for what he’d done to her.
“It wasn’t smart to insult him.” The man pushed open the door and issued that crisp remark over his shoulder. “You need him and his clout.”
Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, she saw his blond hair. Definitely not Jake McClendon. McClendon’s photographs were standard fare in the local newspapers. There was no shortage of publicity shots for the Lone Star State’s golden boy and congressional candidate.
McClendon walked in behind the other man. “I can do without that kind of clout.” He had already removed the tux jacket and was working on the tie. He tugged at it as if it were fighting back.
Jessie’s eyes narrowed. Finally. She was in the same room with the man who wanted her dead.
“You’re wrong.” The blond man again. His name was Douglas Harland, Jessie remembered, and he was married to McClendon’s sister. “You need Emmett.”
“And how about his wife?” McClendon tossed the jacket onto the sofa and shoved a hand through his short coffee-colored hair. “Do I need her, too? She thinks a campaign contribution obligates me to sleep with her.”
“So? Consider it stud service.” The corner of Douglas’s mouth hitched. “You knew there’d be things about this campaign you wouldn’t like.”
“I don’t like any part of it.” McClendon shrugged and undid the top buttons of his shirt. “I want to be in the Texas Legislature. That doesn’t mean I want to sleep my way there.”
McClendon moved to the fireplace, just beneath the mirror, where Jessie could easily see his face. A face that reflected none of the evil inside him. Deeply tanned skin. Sharp angled cheekbones, a legacy from his Comanche grandmother—something the press often mentioned. His brows slanted downward, making his expression a natural frown. His mouth was rigid. But not stern. Under different circumstances she might have considered him good-looking. Even handsome.
But it wasn’t different circumstances.
McClendon was the enemy, in every sense of the word.
He was taller than she’d expected. Over six feet. Lean. Built like the cowboy he was underneath the polished elegance of the tux. A real wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“You’ll just have to accept this stud status of yours,” Douglas continued, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Women want to heal your wounds because you’re a widower. It’s a chick thing.” He glanced down at his watch. “We need to get back before we’re missed.”
It seemed as if he was about to answer, but then McClendon went still. Perfectly still. And much to Jessie’s horror, he looked straight in the mirror. She tried not to move a muscle, even though he would probably see her reflection if he glanced at the curtains.
“Go ahead back to the party,” he finally said. “I’ll be down soon. I just need to make a few calls.”
Jessie allowed herself a quiet breath of relief. So, he hadn’t seen her. She wouldn’t have to reveal her hand while the other man was still in the room.
Before Douglas Harland even issued a “don’t be long” and closed the door behind him, McClendon went to the bar and poured himself a drink. He took the shot in one gulp, then slapped down the glass. In the same motion, he tipped his head toward the curtain. “Mind telling me what you’re doing behind there?”
Jessie went board stiff. There had been nothing in his body language to indicate he’d noticed her.
“Well?” he snarled. “I’m waiting.”
She stepped out, using her forearm to push the curtain aside so she wouldn’t have to lower the gun. For a moment she just stood there and sized him up. Jessie swallowed hard. In a hand-to-hand battle, she would lose. Big time. It wasn’t just his size; it was his street-wise expression. He’d won his share of fights. More, no doubt, than she had.
“How did you know I was here?” Jessie asked.
“Lucky guess,” he said, sardonically enough for her to understand that he had indeed seen her in the mirror. “What do you plan to do with that gun?”
Jessie glanced at it and then him. “It’s my insurance. To make sure you listen to what I have to say.”
“Then, by all means go on—say it. Then get the hell out of here before my brother-in-law comes back to check on me.”
Yes, him. Jessie hadn’t considered that he might come back anytime soon. But she should have. She should have anticipated all the contingencies. She cursed the fog in her head. Because of it, she was already a step behind him.
There seemed to be nothing wrong with McClendon’s thought processes, however. His laser-blue eyes were clear and trained right on her. He seemed ready to strike.
“I want some answers.” She fought back a sudden wave of dizziness. Effects of the fatigue, maybe. And maybe something else. Jessie prayed she could stay strong long enough to finish this.
“So do I. I’d say I’m entitled to some, since you’re holding a gun on me. For starters, do I even know you?”
“I have reason to believe you do.”
“You want money, is that it?” he asked.
A soft burst of air left her mouth. Almost a laugh, but it was lathered with sarcasm. “Money doesn’t solve everything. Why did you have them come after me like that? Why me?”
“Why did I have them come after you? I don’t know what you’re talking about, lady. I’ve never seen you before.”
“You didn’t have to see me to give the order for them to pick me up and take me to that warehouse.”
“Them?” He leaned against the bar and folded his arms over his chest. “Exactly who are you talking about?”
How dare he pull this act with her. “You know.
