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I look at him. “We’re still more than ten feet off the ground.”
“Sixteen feet, I believe.”
Sixteen feet? It would be pretty risky jumping from that height. There’s a good chance we’d sprain our ankles, maybe even break them.
Cain, however, still doesn’t look concerned. What? Does he think he’s invincible?
“You’re really going to do it, aren’t you? Jump out the window, I mean.”
“We are,” he corrects me. “Just tell me when you’re done taking your pictures.”
“I’m done.” I put my phone back in my purse.
Cain closes the drawer and locks it. Then he grabs my hand and leads me to the window.
“Come on.”
I pull my hand away. “I’m still not sure about this.”
“You’re an FBI agent,” Cain reminds me. “Surely you’ve jumped from high places before.”
I have. During training. And I did sprain my ankle that time. I was on crutches for a week.
And I was wearing sweats then, not a ball gown.
“Well?” Cain asks.
“Not in a gown,” I say.
“Want to take it off?” Cain asks me.
I give him a look of disbelief. “What?”
“I’m saying you can take it off if that will make you more comfortable.”
My eyebrows crease. “You want me to jump down in my underwear?”
“I want you to jump down,” Cain answers. “Gown or no gown.”
He’s even crazier than I thought.
“I’m not stripping.”
No way.
“You can take off the gown and give it to me and then you can put it back on after you land,” Cain suggests.
I pout. “Do you know how crazy that sounds?”
“It sounds like a good plan if you don’t want to ruin the gown,” he answers. “It looks expensive.”
It is. But I’m not still not stripping.
I shake my head. “Not to me.”
Nothing about jumping from sixteen feet in just my bra and panties sounds like a good plan.
Cain looks at me. “You do remember that I’ve seen you in your underwear before, right?”
Underwear? Oh, right. In my boxers.
I fight off a blush and wrap my arms around myself.
“Wow. Thanks for the reminder. You really know how to make a woman comfortable, don’t you?”
“I’m not trying to make you comfortable,” Cain tells me. “I’m trying to convince you to jump. If you stay here, you’ll get caught.”
“If I jump and break my ankle, I’ll get caught anyway,” I point out.
Cain places his hands on my arms and looks into my eyes. “You’re not going to get hurt, Allie. I promise.”
I snort. “Really? How can you be sure of that?”
“Because I’ll catch you. I’ll jump down first and then I’ll catch you.”
My eyes grow wide. What? He’s kidding, right?
“You’re not going to get hurt,” Cain repeats.
I gaze into his eyes and see nothing but confidence there. He really means it. He’s going to keep me safe. He doesn’t just think it. He knows it. Somehow, that makes me believe him.
“Do you trust me, Allie?” he asks me.
“No,” I answer softly.
He frowns.
“But I’ll jump,” I tell him.
He’s right, after all. I can’t stay here. Jumping out the window sounds risky, but if he’s going to catch me, then I’m willing to take the risk.
“Good.” Cain takes his hands off me and walks to the window. “Like I said, I’ll go first. You follow when you’re ready.”
I nod. I guess I have no choice.
Cain opens the window and unbuttons his jacket. He glances over his shoulder and gives me a nod. Before I can say anything, he jumps. Just like that. Not a moment’s hesitation.
I blink. Wow.
Does the army teach everyone to jump like that, or was Cain special forces?
I barely hear a sound outside, so I go to the window just to make sure Cain hasn’t flown away or something. He’s there, standing on the grass with just a few strands of hair out of place. Did he land on his feet? And to think he’s wearing loafers, too.
Well, I sure am glad I’m wearing sneakers, though they won’t make much of a difference if I stay in this gown.
I take it off, roll it up, and throw it at Cain. I throw my purse at him as well. Then I draw a deep breath and hoist myself onto the windowsill. I don’t want to look down, but I know I have to or I won’t see Cain. He’s looking at me, arms outstretched. Waiting.
Then I see the ground around him and fear creeps in. I swallow. What if he doesn’t catch me?
A breeze blows. I feel the chill on my belly and suppress a shiver.
The longer I stay here, the colder I’ll get, and the greater the chance of someone seeing me. And the longer Cain will be staring at me in my underwear, a fact I’m becoming more aware of by the second. The sooner I jump, the sooner he can stop. The sooner this will all be over.
I close my eyes. God, I wish I’d drunk more tequila.
