Too late, he saw where this was going. “I do,” he said reluctantly. “I use target practice to relieve my tension.”
“Teach me,” she breathed, her breath tickling his chin. “Please, Colton. If I stay, you’ve got to help me.”
Now he was confused. “You’re staying?”
“Maybe. For a little while. If you help me.”
“Earlier, you said you were ill. What’s wrong with you?”
“I am ill.” The expectant look vanished from her face. “Just not in the way you think.”
Colton shook his head. “If I’m going to help you, I need you to be honest with me.”
“Not about this. There are some things you’re better off not knowing.”
His chest clenched. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. His ex-wife, Paula, had thought that way, too, hiding both her own addiction and that of their teenage daughter. Never again.
He took a deep breath. “When you say that, I think of one thing. Drug addiction.”
She stared, her green eyes wide and guileless, but her expression pinched and worried. He waited for her to speak, hoping she’d tell him he was wrong.
When she didn’t, he lifted his hand. “I’m out of here. You do whatever you want.”
“Colton—”
One last chance, damn her. He’d give her one last chance. “Are you addicted to some kind of drugs?”
“No. Not even close.” Unsmiling, she met his gaze to let him know that this at least, wasn’t the secret she was hiding. “Not even Leo could force me to do that. And believe me, he tried.”
“He tried?” This was incomprehensible. “Why? Why would anyone do that?”
“You don’t know Leo.” She sighed. “He wanted me totally compliant, his own personal slave.” She shuddered, lost in the horror of her own memories.
Feeling as if he were tumbling down a particularly steep hill, Colton touched her—how could he not? He put his arms around her and drew her close. She tucked her head under his chin, her initial stiffness giving way slowly.
For a moment, he simply held her, knowing she could hear the thudding of his heart. Finally, he asked the question he’d never understood, even before he’d known this woman, when he’d watched her husband’s trial on TV. “Why’d you marry someone like him, Jewel?”
“I didn’t know.”
Three simple words, yet his imagination ran with them. He knew from personal experience how easily someone you loved could hide their true nature.
“I—” she began.
“Shhh.” Keeping his arms around her, he tried not to let the feel of her full breasts affect him, or the curve of her waist and intoxicating scent arouse him. “Tell me about your illness.”
At his request, she stiffened and moved away.
“I can’t.” The flatness of her tone came not from fear, but something else. “It has nothing to do with drugs. That’ll have to be enough for you.”
Again, the reporter in him was intrigued. The man in him wanted her back in his arms. “Jewel…” he started.
“I’d like to go home,” she interrupted, her expression fierce and determined. Only the slight catch in her voice revealed her inner emotions. “I can’t think, and I need to clear my head.”
“You won’t tell me.” This wasn’t a question.
Regardless, she answered “No.”
He fished his keys from his pocket, jingling them. “Then you’re right. It’s time for you to go.”
