I’ll need a list of all employees working the shipment here and in Rasnovia where we picked up the saddles. Then we’ll need to compile a list of anyone who might have it in for me, although I suspect that could be a long one. You don’t make as much money as I do without accumulating enemies.”
“I know this isn’t a good time for you, but what part of ‘I quit’ didn’t you understand?”
Jackson stopped dead still. He didn’t turn, didn’t look at her, but his shoulders stiffened. “And what part of ‘lawsuit’ didn’t you understand? I need you now to help me figure out this mess. After that, we’ll discuss your severance options.” He didn’t wait for her response, but continued toward the parking lot.
Ysabel hurried to keep up. She was used to racing after Jackson even on a good day. He didn’t waste time and he didn’t suffer slowpokes. If only her stomach would cooperate. Several steps brought her closer to the source of the smell and she saw the emergency personnel zipping the remains of the forklift driver into a body bag.
The charred skin and the stench of burned flesh sent Ysabel over the edge. Her stomach heaved. She dropped back and held her hand over her mouth. No, please, not now. Tears welled in her eyes.
Jackson, aware he’d lost her, stopped and turned, a frown creasing his brow. “Is everything all right, Miss Sanchez?”
She wanted to throw something at him and hug him at the same time. Damn the man! Of course everything wasn’t all right. And she couldn’t tell him why. She could only hope that she didn’t disgrace herself in front of him. Now would not be the time to display weakness. “I’m fine. Just winded,” she lied and quickly clamped her hand back over her mouth.
Unconvinced, he retraced his steps and stood in front of her. “Are you feeling well?”
His concerned tone pushed the tears over the edge of her eyelids. They made a trail down her cheeks. She couldn’t move, couldn’t straighten fully without losing the contents of her stomach. Damn, why had she eaten that pizza with her sister? If she never saw another pizza again, it would be too soon.
Jackson’s fingers clamped around her wrist and he tugged her hand down. “What’s wrong Ysabel? Why the tears?” He scanned her face and looked down at her bare lips. “Your face and lips are pale. Perhaps you should sit down. Do I need to have the emergency personnel check you out?”
“No!” Her eyes widened. Fear he’d find out her secret made her reply more sharply than she’d intended. “No, I’m fine. Really. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with my stomach.” Beads of perspiration sprang up on her brow. If only he’d back off and leave her to handle her problem on her own.
Jackson pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think you should see the EMT.” He glanced behind her.
Afraid he’d wave down one of the emergency responders, Ysabel straightened, pulling her hands out of his and swallowing the bile rising in her throat. “No, really.” She smoothed her hands down her skirt and forced a smile. “See? I’m better already.”
His frown deepened as though he didn’t believe her for a minute. Then he shrugged. “Okay, then let’s get out of here.”
Holy Mary, Mother of God, that smell! A gentle gust of coastal wind pushed the horrible smell across Ysabel’s nostrils and she was a goner.
Her stomach upended, regurgitated pizza and apple juice launching from her insides. Poor, unsuspecting Jackson, who still stood directly in front of her, didn’t have a chance.
She emptied the contents of her miserable gut on his trouser legs and shoes.
Jackson yelped and jumped back, but not soon enough to avoid her unplanned aim.
Unable to stop, Ysabel retched and retched, tears squeezing from between her tightly shut eyelids.
Then she felt hands pulling her hair back behind her head and warm fingers holding her shoulders. The same hands that had stroked every inch of her body with such smooth sensuality, now held her gently, providing support and comfort.
Jackson’s tenderness did nothing to stem the flow of tears coursing down her face. If anything it only made them worse.
When her stomach let up, she was able to ease to an upright position. Embarrassed and certain she was an undignified disaster, Ysabel turned her back to Jackson. “Leave me alone,” she moaned.
“I can’t.” He turned her toward him and patted her face with a clean cotton handkerchief, drying her tears and mopping up what he could of her gastronomic pyrotechnics.
“I’m sorry. I guess the smell got to me.”
He smiled and smoothed her hair back from her face. “It happens to the best of us.”
“But not to me.” Ysabel grabbed his wrist and relieved him of the scrap of cloth, her lips pressing into a tight line. She couldn’t take much more of his concern. Not when she had to get away from him and Champion Shipping forever. Not when her heart was shattering into a billion pieces.
What a dope. How could she be so stupid to fall so completely in love with her boss?
Chapter Three
Jackson insisted on driving Ysabel’s compact red car with its sparkling set of rosary beads dangling from the rearview mirror, folding his six-foot-two-inch frame behind the driver’s wheel. After tossing her cookies at the container yard, Ysabel was too shaky and weak to maneuver Houston traffic—or so Jackson reasoned after wrestling the keys from her stubborn, unwilling hands.
Truth was, his own hands were shaking and he wasn’t feeling so steady. Not that he’d ever admit it. The great Jackson Champion had narrowly missed being blown up and faced the possibility of going to jail all upon return from a two-month sabbatical from his home in Houston. But what had him confused and shaking inside was Ysabel being so violently ill.
Ysabel, the one constant in his life. The person he’d come to depend on for just about everything. The woman he’d betrayed by taking her to his bed in a fit of rebound sex.
His hands gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles whitened. Late at night the traffic in Houston was almost tolerable. He didn’t have to sit in jammed lines of vehicles and pray his car didn’t overheat in the unrelenting Texas sun.
“I thought we were going back to the office.” Ysabel sat beside him, her normal color almost returned to her face, back in professional mode and ready to take on any challenge. She was amazing.
And that was the problem. She didn’t know when to take time out for herself. She’d let him drive her into the dirt before she cried uncle. His lips pressed together. Wasn’t it time to take others into consideration for once? Had he been that incredibly selfish? “I’m taking you back to my place.”
“No!”
Her sharp reply made him risk a glance her way. In the light from the dash, her eyes rounded and she gripped her purse like the rail on the edge of a sheer drop-off. Was she scared of him?
The muscles in his chest pulled tight, especially the big one conducting blood through his system. He’d done that. Made her afraid of him, but that didn’t
