Setting her purse on the hardwood floor, Jamie joined him on the couch. The sweet fragrance of her perfume wafted in his direction, and he suddenly noticed that she wasn’t wearing the business attire she’d had on this morning. She’d changed into a pair of faded blue jeans and a black v-neck T-shirt, which made her look younger, softer.
“I was at the station when Teresa’s lawyer came in,” she admitted.
“So you know,” he said flatly.
Jamie met his eyes. “Did you threaten her?”
Frustration roiled in his belly. “Honestly? I don’t really remember. I may have told her to stop pushing me or she’d regret it, but I didn’t say I was going to kill her. I just wanted to put an end to that foolish court case.”
“That’s what I figured,” Jamie said softly. “I don’t believe you meant it as a threat to her life.”
He searched her face, seeing nothing but sincerity there. “You’re probably the only one who thinks that,” he said with a sigh. “Finnegan is convinced I’m a murderer. I’m sure the people in town think so too.”
Something flickered in her expression, causing Cole to narrow his eyes. “What is it?”
“I ran into Valerie Matthews at the diner earlier,” she said. “I don’t know about anyone else in town, but she definitely believes you murdered her sister.” Jamie paused. “I’m pretty sure she gave me a warning.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
The frown deepened as Jamie told him about the mysterious note that had been left on her car, accusing her of having a death wish. When she finished, Cole fought a rush of anger, turning his head so she wouldn’t see the volatile look in his eyes. The thought of someone going out of their way to warn Jamie about him made his stomach clench.
When had he become the villain? He’d worked damn hard to get to where he was, spent years building his business into the successful empire it was today. The only mistake he’d made was marrying Teresa Matthews. He’d let lust cloud his common sense, married a woman he’d hardly known and now he was paying the price for it.
The sympathy on Jamie’s face only made it worse. He didn’t want her feeling sorry for him. Didn’t need her or anyone else’s pity. Curling his hands into fists, he tightened his jaw and shot her a dark look.
“So someone left you a warning note and yet you still came here. What, you’re not scared of me?”
She seemed wary, no doubt because of the feral expression he knew must be on his face. “No, I’m not scared of you, Cole.”
“Well, maybe you should be,” he muttered. “Apparently I’m the man women file restraining orders against.” He cursed. “Lord, when the papers find out about this…”
“It might not get out.”
He gave a derisive snort. “Of course it will get out. I’m a wealthy man and people love scandals. Know what they love even more? Kicking a man when he’s down.”
Her voice grew strained. “Cole, come on.”
He was so overcome by a wave of atypical self-pity that he didn’t even notice her move closer, not until her warm hand stroked his cheek. The gentleness of her touch only made him angrier, and with another expletive, he pushed her hand away.
“Don’t,” he choked out. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”
Her violet eyes shone with more of that sympathy he was tired of seeing. “I hate seeing you like this.”
“Then leave.”
He knew he was being an ass, but at the moment, he was tired of keeping up a careless front. This entire time he’d assured himself that the investigation would blow over. That Gideon would tell the truth. That a new suspect would crop up. Well, none of that had happened, and not even Jamie Crawford’s soothing presence could fix his mess of a life.
“I’m not leaving,” Jamie said, sounding irritated. “You’re upset. You need someone to talk to. You need a friend.”
He gave an incredulous laugh. “We barely know each other. And even if we did, there’s no way we can be friends, Jamie.”
She frowned. “Why, because I’m a cop?”
“No, because we’re attracted to each other.”
Her breath hitched, but she made no attempt to deny it. From the moment he’d met her, she’d triggered his desire. It was like a magnet was pulling him toward her, and that same force had him moving closer now. Everything about this woman got his blood going. The curve of her graceful neck, the flowery scent of her perfume, the way her clothes hugged her long, willowy frame.
He’d already had a taste of her, felt her lush lips pressed against his own. God help him, but he wanted another taste.