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She searched his eyes, realizing she was not alone in what she was feeling right now. Jackson was not unaffected, but he was as good at hiding his emotions as she was.
She cleared her throat, needing her voice to be strong. “Pistol, waist holster. Two knives—one in my back right pocket, one in my left jacket pocket.”
His eyes locked on hers and she knew that had been a test. But she wouldn’t fail—she’d spoken the truth. And she knew what would happen next by the heat in his eyes.
He nodded, and she nodded in response.
Anna swallowed hard and focused on breathing as he touched her jacket, opening it and checking the internal pocket. To her surprise, he didn’t take the knife but tucked it back into the pocket.
But when he reached around her waist, placing his hand on her lower back, she couldn’t breathe despite her brain telling her lungs to inhale. She looked away, needing to focus on the wall—on anything but him and the way he smelled, the way his hand felt on her back, the invisible pull that seemed to reel her closer to him. The irrational craving she felt to lift her lips and feel his, to see what kissing Jackson felt like. Her body wanted to know, demanded to know. Her head told her to step away.
Jackson didn’t remove his hand immediately, and when she looked back to him, his eyes were heated. He drew a long breath, their eyes locked. “Wire,” he said, his voice thick and rough like gravel.
She shook her head, unable to speak.
He reached for his back pocket and pulled out a small device that looked like a USB. He scanned her body, his eyes staying locked on hers.
It didn’t beep because she wasn’t wearing a wire.
“Policy,” he said, his eyes softening like he was apologizing. “I need to confirm you’re not playing double agent.”
“Understood,” she said, forcing the words from her lips. She couldn’t think when he was this close to her; she couldn’t do anything but look into his eyes.
When he finally stepped away, she all but sucked in a deep breath.
But she forced herself to remain composed.
Jackson sat on the edge of the desk again, folding his hands in front of his chest. He had nice hands, she noted. Long fingers, smooth skin... she couldn’t help but wonder how they would feel holding her.
Jackson looked to the ground a minute, shaking his head. “I’d better pray for forgiveness for this,” he said under his breath. “Dominic and Diaz are not estranged.” Jackson lifted his eyes to hers. “I don’t know exactly why you think that, but they met this week at the warehouse. From what we can tell, Dominic is the brains of the operation and Diaz does the leg work.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. “This week?” she eventually asked, her voice sounding foreign to her, but she was beyond caring at this point. She wanted this information. Needed it.
“Two nights ago. Dominic arrived half an hour earlier. He was inside when Diaz arrived. No one else entered,” he said.
Anna’s mind searched back through the weeks. Diaz never stayed at her house on a Monday night and now she wondered if this meeting happened every Monday night. Diaz had always said it was his card night with the boys. She’d never had a reason to suspect otherwise because they all talked about it the next day. And unless they were all in on this, their stories indicated Diaz was there. But maybe he met with Dominic on his way home?
The office phone rang three times, then stopped.
Anna saw the change in Jackson’s demeanor immediately.
His eyes darted to the door. “I don’t know how much time we have,” he said. “There are men following you—they have been since the night I met with you at Sloan’s. I didn’t tell you because I don’t know if your phone is bugged. You need to be careful, Anna,” he said, then turned away. He grabbed the gift basket from the desk and gave it to her. “Meet me tomorrow. I put a card in here with a map—it’s a drive the dealership recommends for their customers to enjoy their cars and the beautiful scenery. There are three locations recommended to stop and take some pictures. Meet me at the third one—I’ll be waiting for you.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And how do you think I should lose Diaz’s men?”
A grin spread across his lips and her heart skipped a beat. “The same way you usually do, without even realizing it. Drive fast, Anna.”
His eyes danced and she loved the way her name rolled off his lips. It was like he was speaking to her, the real Anna. Not the Anna she pretended to be. Again she felt like Jackson truly saw her, and he was the only one who did.
“Can you get me out of any speeding tickets? I’m dangerously close to losing my license,” she said sheepishly.
Jackson chuckled. “I’ve got you covered,” he said, biting his lip.
Their eyes locked again and she felt a surge of energy rush through her. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to walk away from him, from this office. It was like everything had stopped for a few moments—like she’d been able to leave her past behind.
She felt like herself.
And she hadn’t felt like that in years.
