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I continued chastising myself until I heard the knock on the door. I hadn’t paid enough attention to Jameson, but now I was able to see how tall he was, muscular in a way that was meant for pounding people in a boxing ring or bouncing an unruly patron on their ass outside a club. The ugly single light fixture near the door of the brownstone highlighted scars on his face, the sneer he wore as he stared down at me. I wasn’t short by any means, over five foot seven without the heels, but I felt invisible behind his massive frame.
I hated to admit the cold look in his eyes sent a tremor of fear straight down my spine.
“We need to leave. The boss doesn’t appreciate tardiness.” He said nothing else as he turned, heading for the same SUV where Cruz and I had… Where we’d fucked. It couldn’t be called anything else. The moment certainly hadn’t been romantic.
While I trailed behind him, I couldn’t help but notice he made it a point to be aware of the activity near the vehicle. He opened the back passenger door, cocking his head when I didn’t immediately jump in response. I also noticed was the handle of a weapon sticking out of the side of his trousers. What did he think would happen on a busy street near the center of activity?
I shuddered and climbed in, bristling from the hard slam as he closed the door, the force enough the massive vehicle shifted. He wasted no time moving around to the other side and getting in. When he adjusted his rearview mirror so he could easily pay attention to what I was doing, I almost gave him a finger, which was totally unlike me. I didn’t like him, and I sensed the feelings were reciprocated.
But this wasn’t about him.
He pulled the SUV away from the curb within seconds, glancing into the mirror three times as if he half expected I’d jump out. I had a feeling he’d chase after me if I had.
I settled into the seat, turning my head toward the window, trying to keep my nerves in check. The entire situation was insane.
Several minutes passed, enough time that he left the commercial area, heading toward several residential roads. What restaurant was Jameson headed for? I waited to ask, realizing only a few minutes later that he was headed for the most expensive part of New Orleans where the home prices ranged in the millions.
“Where are we going?” I demanded. Instantly, he threw me a harsh look, his eyes narrowing as he stared at me.
“To your required appointment.”
Wasn’t he the charmer of the year? “I was supposed to be having dinner with Mister…” He didn’t take the bait. Damn it. “With Cruz.”
“Then that’s where we’re headed.”
The bastard wasn’t going to tell me anything else. I folded my arms, debating whether I should try to convince him to pull over to the side. Right. As if he’d allow me to escape under any circumstances. I was beginning to think I’d lost my mind, the anxiety overriding the earlier excitement.
Think clearly. He wouldn’t get you dolled up just to hack you into pieces.
But wasn’t that the kind of behavior psychotics often used? Serial killers luring their victims into a false sense of security?
Oh, stop it. That’s ridiculous.
Was it?
“Have you worked for Cruz long?” I asked, trying to rid myself of the terrifying thoughts.
He didn’t respond and didn’t bother looking at me.
“Hmm… You’re a big talker. Aren’t you? Do you like working for him?”
At least he tapped his index finger on the steering wheel as he made a turn. The houses were some of the largest and most spectacular I’d ever seen, most gothic in appearance, the old Victorians surviving the various hurricanes with little or no damage. I’d longed to see inside of one.
“What’s he really like, Jameson?” As soon as his name slipped past my lips, he exhaled, the sound none too happy.
“You’ll need to ask your questions once we arrive,” he said gruffly.
“Why? Because you’re forbidden to talk? Does he keep you locked in a cage when you’re not following his orders?” Oops. I’d allowed the caustic side of me to come out to play. I’d worked hard not to allow her to escape the tight confines I usually managed to keep her in. In fact, I’d done everything in my power to alter every aspect of who I used to be.
Hair color.
Style of clothing.
Eliminating the slight northern accent.
I’d even switched from drinking white wine to red in hopes of hiding behind the mask.
“I can tell why the boss likes you,” he said, dragging me out of memory lane.
