When they arrived at her hotel, Jake escorted her to her room, his hand in hers, but he seemed to be in a real hurry. As if he was afraid he’d stay and forget his business, he smiled broadly and framed her head with his hands against the outer wall beside her door instead of entering the room. “If I don’t run over to the gallery now, I’m likely to get awfully distracted and wait too late, and then they’ll be closed.”
She smiled, brows raised, hands sliding up his chest. “Then you’d better run over there, because I think you might just be right.”
And with that, he gave her one of his searing kisses that promised much more later. Desire curled in her belly, making her feel that if she hadn’t been leaning against the wall, she would have melted into a puddle at his feet.
“I’ll be right back. Twenty minutes, max.”
She smiled and tugged at his buttons. “By the time you drive back into town, sign the papers, and return, it’ll be more like forty-five. But that’s fine. I’ll change and lie down for a few minutes.”
“If you fall asleep before I return, I’ll be happy to wake you.” He kissed her again and strode off before she could tug him into the room and give up on napping or anything else.
The women at the rink didn’t know how really good he could be. And she liked him way too much already.
But as soon as he disappeared down the hall, she shuddered, feeling the first real inkling of fear. For as long as she could remember, she’d been the survivor of one disaster or another. And her anger after her mother’s killing had kept her blood hot for revenge—so she hadn’t really felt anything but a compelling urge to take her mother’s murderers into custody. On the darker side, she hadn’t cared whether she made it or not—as long as they paid for their crime.
Now, for the first time since her mother’s death, she did care. Because of a man named Jake Silver. Because of the joy of living he’d awakened in her. Because for once in her life, she felt worthy.
And that scared her.
Chapter 6
Alicia entered her hotel room, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw an envelope on the blue-gray carpet where it must have been shoved underneath the door. Before she picked up the note, she considered that it might be from her informant. What if Mario and Danny were again on the move?
Her breathing suspended, she tore the envelope open and pulled out the folded note. Alicia Greiston, Room 101 was repeated on the piece of paper, but in another man’s hard-bitten scrawl. She swallowed hard and opened the piece of paper and read: You want me, come and get me. But if lover boy is with you, consider him dead.
Her heart felt as though its motion had been suspended in mid-beat.
Jake would die.
No matter how much she wanted to be with him, to live again, to enjoy life to the fullest, she’d known her meeting him had been too good to be true. He’d leave her anyway. She reminded herself of the way he’d reacted after they’d made love in the woods—that this was a mistake.
It was. A grave mistake. If Jake died, it would be as though she had pulled the trigger herself. All she’d been thinking of was herself, damn it.
No more. She had a job to do. And Jake had to stay out of the picture.
As fast as she could, she changed into jeans and a T-shirt, tossed the rest of her clothes and cosmetics into her bags, and hurried to the lobby. There, with her heart racing, worried Jake would discover her leaving before she could disappear and guessing he wouldn’t allow it, she stood at the checkout counter, trying not to tap her fingers on the polished surface as she waited for the clerk to get off the phone.
As soon as he did and she got her bill, he said, “Miss Alicia Greiston, you had a message.” He passed an envelope to her, eerily like the first, with her name and room number written on top. But she thought she recognized her informant’s handwriting, although she couldn’t be certain because the scrawl was often disguised. With a quick thanks, she stalked toward the back door where her car was parked outside. As soon as she stowed her bags in the trunk, she drove away from Breckenridge and opened the envelope.
I want to take Mario down, too. But if you get to him first, I’m all for it. He’ll be in Denver at a condo in Cherry Creek North, listed under John Smith.
It was the same type of encouraging, cryptic note that she’d received before, telling her that Mario and Danny were now in Breckenridge. Whoever her informant was, he had been right. She was still concerned that he might be one of Mario’s men, but gut instinct told her she could trust him as far as his not working for Mario. She also assumed he was not one of the strictly good guys or he’d identify himself. More than likely he was someone who had a vendetta of his own.
Turning the car around, she drove in the direction of Denver, two hours away, and hoped Jake wouldn’t hate her too much as a damnable tear slid down her cheek. She had to draw on her anger if she was going to take Mario and Danny down. Remorse and regret would get her killed before she could accomplish her mission otherwise, and she definitely would get Jake killed if she had anything more to do with him.
Impatiently, Jake signed the paperwork at the art gallery, agreed on the pricing of the photographs, and after leaving all his contact information, headed back to Alicia’s inn. He was thinking he should be noble and take her to lunch first, although he already wanted to make love to her again. He’d never felt that way about a woman—that being separated from her for even an hour would make him crave her all the more. He was thinking of a hike on a trail, although probably not the one where he’d found her earlier today, facing off against two more thugs. Maybe he could take her to a movie at the local theater later tonight. Or even better, find something on pay TV and order room service. Ice up a bottle of champagne. Anything she wanted to do was fine with him.
Before he’d even reached the lot where her car was parked in the back of the inn, though, he began to have a bad feeling. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so uneasy until he realized that Alicia’s red car was gone.
He parked, and with his heart beating furiously, he headed for her room. He didn’t have a key card and just pounded on the door. When there was no answer, he wasn’t surprised. She had to have run into town for something. Even though he knew she had to be all right and was just running an errand, he couldn’t help the foreboding that said something more was wrong. If he’d thought about it and not been in such a rush to get to the gallery, he would have given her his cell number. He considered using the lock picks that he carried like most lupus garous, but because of the gnawing worry that something more had happened, he went to the front desk instead. There, he broke in on a conversation the clerk was having on the phone.
“Excuse me, did Alicia Greiston leave a message for me, Jake Silver?” he asked the scrawny suited man with slightly balding temples.
The clerk shot an annoyed look at him, shook his head, and then continued to talk to the person on the phone.
“Are you certain?” Jake persisted, leaning against the counter, ready to climb over it and force the clerk to answer him immediately.
The clerk said to the person on the phone, “Excuse me for a second.” With his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and a peeved look on his face, he turned his full attention to Jake. “She had a couple of messages, one delivered to her room and the other here at the counter.”
“Who delivered them?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Jake ground his teeth. “She could be in danger.”
The man raised his brows as if he thought Jake was giving him a line.
“She’s a bounty hunter tracking some real criminals. They’ve threatened her once already, and I had to intervene to protect her earlier in the day. I have to make sure she’s not heading into danger.”
The clerk looked unmoved by the comment and said nothing.
“Can I see her room? Make sure it doesn’t show signs that she was coerced into leaving?”
“I’m sorry, sir. Our policy is—”
“Have someone go with me. If there’s been any sign of force, you’ll have to call the police. If foul play has occurred and you don’t do your part to see that she was safe in a timely manner, your job could very well be on the line.”
The man’s steely gaze narrowed even more. But he took an annoyed breath and said to the person on the phone, “Let me have your number, and we’ll get back to you.” Then he scribbled the number down, said good-bye, and spoke to another clerk in an office. “I’m checking out a guest’s room. I’ll be right back.”
“All right,” a woman said.
Then the clerk escorted Jake to Alicia’s room. “I waited on her when she was checking out, and she seemed in a rush. She was looking over her shoulder, but it didn’t seem that anyone was with her.”
“She looked anxious, though?”
“Yes. She was in a real hurry. I was on the phone at the time, but I could see she was really apprehensive. She kept looking over her shoulder as if someone might arrive at any moment and stop her.” He glanced at Jake, implying he might have been the one she was trying to avoid.
The clerk opened the door to her room and led the way. Nothing was amiss. The bed was still unmade, but her bags were gone. Jake glanced around the room, looking for anything else that might give him a clue as to why she left so abruptly. While the clerk checked out the bathroom, Jake noticed a note on the dresser, saw her name and room number on it, and opened it. Someone had warned Alicia not to stay with Jake or Jake would die, damn the perpetrator’s soul who had written the note.
“Was that something important?” the clerk asked, pointing to the paper in Jake’s hand as he rejoined him.
“Yeah, the perp threatened that if she took me with her, I’d be dead. I told you this was serious.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“Yeah. That’s what you need to do. Tell them she’s a bounty hunter trying to catch Mario Constantino and Danny Massaro, who are bail bond jumpers. And they’ve made a death threat against me.” He handed the clerk the slip of paper. “I’m going to look for her and see if I can catch sight of her car anywhere. It’s a red Neon. Not sure of the license plate number, but you probably already have it when she signed in.”