Page 73 of Dangerous Liaisons

Chapter Fifty-Four

Cole grasped the bedroom doorknob, and Jesse ignored the flip of her stomach as he pushed open the door. A six pack and three hours after they’d pounded out the details of their plan, Tom announced he was leaving to begin preparations. As he left, the glance he cast in her direction startled her. She was positive she’d maintained a cool facade toward Cole, yet something in the look hinted at a question.

“Here you go, Jess.” Cole stepped aside for her to enter.

She slipped past him, stopping just inside the huge bedroom. Had he put her in the master bedroom? The room was certainly large enough, and the king-sized four-poster bed, comforter, and four, full-sized pillows fit the bill—just as she’d imagined. The dark oak dressing table, vanity, dresser, and two chests, along with the wool carpet color coordinated in earth tones spoke of masculine tastes. She stepped up to the bed and ran her hand across the down comforter, eyeing the four pillows. After sleeping in trees and seedy hotels, the bed looked obscenely decadent.

She turned to find Cole leaning against the doorjamb. “It’s…” The sight of him, arms crossed, blue eyes intent on her, made her mind go blank.

“Jess,” he murmured, and pushed off the doorjamb.

His secure cell phone rang. Cole halted, his gaze glued to hers. Jesse remained rooted to the spot. Only Caruthers and Fletcher had the number. Something went wrong in Nicaragua.

Cole pulled the phone from his back pocket and flipped it open. “Yeah?”

Jesse took four paces and stopped in front of him. Her heart pumped faster. This was exactly what she’d feared would happen. Despite all her planning, the identity papers Ernesta had forged and sent to a Queens, New York post office box had been for nothing. Instead of a well-planned kidnapping, Jesse would be forced to tear Amanda away from everything and everyone she knew in a midnight mission that was sure to draw attention from those watching.

“Okay,” Cole said. “Keep me posted.” He closed the phone.

“Well?” Jesse demanded.

“That was Caruthers. Lanton called him.”

“And?”

“Everything is going as planned.” Cole frowned, and she thought the bruise on his cheek darkened in the instant before his mouth curved into a gentle smile. “Amanda will be okay, Jess.”

She felt as if she’d been tossed into an arctic lake. “Don’t put me off, goddamit. I want to know what Caruthers—”

Cole reached for her. She saw the movement and started to step back, but too late. He grasped her shoulders, holding her motionless. Their gazes locked. Her heart beat so furiously she felt light headed. A lump formed in her throat, and she gave a small gasp at realizing a tear was sliding down her cheek.

He slid an arm around her as he wiped away the tear with a fingertip. “Good thing I came into that alley.”

“Who knows what sort of trouble I would have gotten into otherwise?” she heard herself say.

A corner of his mouth twitched. “Uh huh. And who would have carried you to Rayburn’s?” He leaned close. “Not to mention, we couldn’t have anyone else seeing you in nothing but a bath towel. The yellow sundress was a poor substitute.”

A warm glow radiated through her insides. “You didn’t do anything about it.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You didn’t trust me.”

“Should I trust you now? I’m alone and at your mercy.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, his mouth within a hair’s breadth of hers.

The muscles between her legs tightened with pleasurable discomfort.

“How do you feel about me now, Jesse?”

How did she feel? She grabbed his shoulders, and yanked to drop him onto the bed. Cole spun, tossed her onto the bed like a rag doll, and sprang on top, his hands buried in her hair, his lips an inch from hers. That was a move Hwuang hadn’t taught her.

Cole brushed his lips over hers, barely touching, as he whispered, “You wouldn’t have forgiven me if I’d let you give yourself up without trust. I’m a patient man.”

“And damned confident.”

“Maybe.”

He pressed his lips against hers. His tongue flicked once, then parted her lips with a gentle push. Her last coherent thought was He always gets the last word as she yanked his shirttail free of his jeans.