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“The other player is a woman,” she finally guessed, her voice trembling. “And she resembles me, doesn’t she?”
Dawg made the turn into the Mackay Marina in silence before he glanced over at her again.
“The description we have of her resembles you,” he admitted softly, seeing her flinch from the corner of his eye. “She’s the only one missing; she has the money. There’s no reason for any focus to linger on you. ”
“Unless one of the men you captured saw me? Or recognized me from town? Or someone associated with them sees me now?”
“Let’s not borrow trouble, Crista. ” But they were thoughts brewing in his own mind. “You concentrate on the here and now; I’ll concentrate on the rest of it. ”
“Just concentrate on your little blackmail scheme?” she retorted acidly.
“Make happy with my dick, and I’ll be a happy little camper. ” He said the words for shock effect.
He hated seeing the fear in her eyes, in her expression. And that took care of it nicely.
“Has anyone ever told you what a bastard you are, Dawg?” Hostility radiated from her now.
Dawg let his lips curl into a mocking grin. Oh yeah, he knew what a bastard he was. His father had made certain he had known at a very early age.
“You’re telling me now. ” He pulled into his parking slot close to the docks, his gaze moving carefully around the area as he shut the pickup off before turning to face her. “You ready to make nice and go to the boat yet? Or do we need to sit here and have a screaming match instead?”
“I don’t have screaming matches. ” Her expression lit with offended anger.
“You’d be the first woman then,” he grunted, moving from the vehicle. “Let’s go. I need a cold beer. ”
Summer had just started, but it was already warming up with a ferocity that sent waves of heat curling up from the asphalt.
He pulled her suitcase from the backseat as well as the box and tucked it under his arm as she rounded the front of the truck.
“I’ll get the flowers. ” Her expression was anxious, as though she couldn’t trust him to take care of two damned pots of flowers.
But hell, why should she? She couldn’t even trust him to help her when Alex advised her to.
Son of a bitch. Missing items from her home, a feeling of being watched and followed. She had all the signs of a stalker at the very least, and she hadn’t contacted anyone. If she had contacted the sheriff, Zeke Mayes, he would have let Dawg know.
Dawg let her gather the two oversized pots in her arms. The red miniature rosebush with its pot was nearly as tall as she was. The flowering cactus was smaller but no less bulky.
“I can have Natches come back for those,” he told her doubtfully.
The glare she gave him had his lips tightening in annoyance.
“Fine. ” He slammed the doors closed as he turned back to her. “Let me carry one of them before you topple over. ”
“I have them. ” She peeked between the branches of the rosebush. “Just lead the way. ”
“If you fall in the lake because you can’t see over those damned pots, then I’m going to let you drown,” he warned her.
He knew better. He was so damned stupid where she was concerned, he’d save her and the fucking plants.
“I know what I’m doing. ” Dark brown eyes narrowed on him. “Just go on. I’ll be right behind you. ”
“After you. ” He smiled tightly. “And watch where you’re going, if you can. Don’t walk off the side of a dock. Please. ”
As she moved ahead of him, Dawg stayed close to her, just in case. She was so damned stubborn she would probably kill herself rather than see a single rose damaged.
He frowned at the small roses topping their green branches. He had given her a rosebush once.
He wondered what had happened to it. On her seventeenth birthday, an attempt to sweeten her toward him. He had arrived at her home, endured Alex’s glare, and given her the plastic-wrapped little bush for the tiny rose garden she had behind the house. He had noticed that. How much she liked roses.
