The candle didn’t throw off much light, but it was enough for him to see the loveliness of her face. Jake swore he wasn’t going to look at the rest of her. But his eyes betrayed him and skimmed over the enticing curve of her shoulders. The graceful length of her throat. The old porcelain tub was tall, and he was standing far enough away that it covered the rest of her. But he had seen her naked. He had had the image of her smooth, silky skin branded in his brain.
Remembering the nights they’d spent holed up in a safe house, he went hard. His head began to whirl as all the blood in his body rushed south. For several interminable minutes he just stood there, need pulsing through his body.
She stared back at him, her mouth partially open as if in surprise. All he could think of were the times he’d kissed that mouth. All the times that mouth had been on his, on his body.
“Get dressed,” he heard himself say.
And then he left the room.
Chapter Six
Ian Rasmussen had made the call via his satellite phone. “Did you get the trace?” he asked.
“We’ve located the nearest tower.”
“Excellent. Where are they?”
“Western Missouri.”
“Vanderpol drives a Hummer. That size vehicle shouldn’t be hard to spot.”
“The area is rural farmland. Snow is going to make it difficult. He could have parked it in an out-building or garage.”
The slow burn of fury made Rasmussen’s hands clench. He didn’t want obstacles thrown in his path. He wanted action and he wanted it right now. “Do you know what I did to the last man who handed me excuses?”
The man on the other end of the line cleared his throat. “No, sir.”
“I had him skinned alive and made gloves from his flesh.”
Tense silence filled the line. “I understand,” the man said.
“Good. Then you understand that all I care about is results. Are we on the same page?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Find Jake Vanderpol. Find Leigh Michaels. Use every resource at your disposal. Call in every favor ever owed you. Money is not an option. I want both of them alive. And I want them right now.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“You’d better hope your best is good enough,” Rasmussen snapped, then disconnected.
LEIGH LAY ON HER SIDE a few feet from the potbellied stove listening to the wind whipping around the eaves and the snow hitting the windowpanes.
Even though her body ached with exhaustion, her mind was wound tight. Jake had given her the only blanket, but she was still freezing. He’d gotten up twice to put wood in both the stove and the fireplace. Evidently, she wasn’t the only one with insomnia.
She wanted to believe it was fear eating away at her peace of mind and her ability to sleep. But she knew her wakefulness had little to do with Rasmussen and everything to do with the man sitting a few feet from the hearth, staring into the fire.
He hadn’t spoken to her since the scene in the bathroom when Rasmussen had called. Leigh had wanted to talk, but something kept her from bridg ing the chasm that had fallen between them. Maybe it was because she didn’t want to risk getting any closer to him.
She knew Jake was a good man. A good agent. It was the latter, though, that kept her from trusting him. Because while she knew he wanted to protect her, she also knew he was capable of sacrificing her to get his man. She had the scars on her heart to prove it.
“You’re shivering.”
She jolted at the sound of his voice. “It’s cold,” she said, sitting up.
He stood over her, looking down. Leigh wasn’t sure why, but she felt edgy, ill at ease.
“How’s the bullet wound?” she asked.
“Sore. Stiff.” He smiled, and some of the tension leached from her neck and shoulders. “I’ll live.”
“Sounds like the snow is piling up.”
“It’s cold, Leigh. We need to get some sleep. I’m not sure when we’ll be able to sleep again.”
She knew what he was saying, what he was asking. He didn’t ask for permission as he sat down beside her. She saw the intent in his eyes, but she didn’t stop him when he put his arm around her and draped the blanket over both of them.
“Lie down with me,” he said softly. “We’ll stay a lot warmer together than we will alone.”
The protest died on her lips when he eased her to the floor. It seemed only natural to rest her head against his shoulder. For the first time in too many months to count, Leigh felt safe—and oddly content. She felt that as long as she was with Jake, Ian Rasmussen and his band of thugs couldn’t touch them, couldn’t hurt them. Jake Vanderpol was a warrior. He was the most competent man Leigh had ever met.
That she could feel that way for him after what he’d done to her frightened her. Made her feel vulnerable. That once again she was making decisions based on her heart and not her brain.
“Better?” he asked after a moment.
“A lot better. Thank you.”