Looking into the deep blue of her eyes he wanted desperately to argue. But logic wouldn’t let him. She was right. They needed to trap Rasmussen to stop him. But was stopping a madman worth risking her life? “I know,” he said. “We made the right decision.”
But suddenly Jake began to doubt his ability to keep her safe. He’d been considering calling Sean Cutter and asking the agency for support. But after everything that happened, Jake wasn’t sure he could trust the agency. If someone inside was selling information, both he and Leigh were as good as dead. No, he thought darkly. They were on their own.
“We carry out the sting as planned,” he said.
She nodded.
The need to reach out to her was strong, but Jake resisted. He knew what would happen if he did.
“We ought to try to get some sleep,” he said in a rough voice. “I’ll take the rear bedroom. You can have the master.”
She started to speak, but Jake turned and walked into the bedroom.
Chapter Fourteen
Jake didn’t know what he was afraid of, but the fear was like a living creature inside him. A creature panicked and running for its life. Certain of death.
Then he saw Leigh. Wearing nothing more than a gauzy gown, she ran toward him through the thick, dark forest. The whirling snow came up to her knees but it didn’t slow her down. He sensed her panic. He saw the terror on her face. He didn’t know what she was running from. But he sensed evil. He felt it all the way to his bones.
“Jake!” she shouted as she ran. “Help me, please!”
He wanted to go to her, wrap her in his arms and keep her safe. But he was paralyzed; he couldn’t move. “Leigh! I’m here!” he shouted. “Run!”
But she couldn’t hear him above the keening of the wind.
Then Ian Rasmussen appeared out of nowhere, wearing a black tuxedo and armed with a long barrel rifle. Rasmussen raised the rifle and took aim.
Arms outstretched, Leigh cried out for Jake to help her.
“Leigh!” Jake yelled.
The gunshot shattered the night. Jake watched as red bloomed on the front of her gown. She stopped running and set her hand against the wound. Her eyes were accusing when they fell upon Jake.
“You used me,” she whispered. “You betrayed me.”
“No!” he shouted.
But when he looked down at his own hands, they were covered with blood.
“No!”
Jake sat bolt upright, his heart hammering like a piston. Sweat slicked his body.
The image of Leigh being shot made him physically ill. The fear was like a stone in his gut.
Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he rose.
“Jake?”
He started at the sound of her voice. Glancing quickly toward the door, he noticed her standing there.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, his voice sounding more rough than he’d intended.
“You cried out in your sleep. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine.”
Evidently, she didn’t believe him because she went to him. Annoyed by her concern, Jake sighed heavily. “Damn it, Leigh, I’m fine.”
But he started when she touched his arm.
“My God, you’re wet with sweat.”
She moved closer as if to set her palm against his forehead to check for a fever, but he stopped her by grasping her wrist. “I said I’m all right.” He released her a little too roughly.
“You’re not sick?”
“No.”
She eyed him as if she didn’t know whether to believe him. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“It was just a stupid dream.” He scraped a hand over his face, wished he hadn’t when he noticed it was shaking.
“What was it about?”
He didn’t want to talk about the dream. He could recall the stark terror he’d felt when Rasmussen shot her down. He could still see her face, the shock in her eyes, and feel the horror in his heart. Standing there close enough to touch her, all he could do was pray to God he would never have to face what he’d faced in that nightmare.
Shaken by the thought, torn because he wanted to be with her in ways that would only complicate a situation that was already too complex, he shoved past her and walked into the living room. The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers. Because he needed something to do, he put two more logs on the grate.
“You were in bad shape when I walked into the bedroom.”
He turned to find her standing directly behind him. “It was just a bad dream, Leigh. Let it go.”
“A bad dream that had you sweating and shaking as if you were deathly ill. For God’s sake, you’re still shaking.”
“Yeah, well, it’s freaking cold in here.”
“Sometimes it helps to talk things out.”
He wished she would stop looking at him like that. As if he was the only man in the world and all the things that had happened six years ago no longer mattered.
Then he noticed she was only wearing a T-shirt and a pair of socks. Her legs were bare, and he couldn’t take his eyes off that tantalizing stretch of skin. Then he remembered he was wearing only his boxer shorts and a T-shirt and if he didn’t get the hell out of there pronto she was going to know exactly how much he liked looking at her.