The bell above the door jingled, announcing Jackson’s departure, the sound light and gay, like the chirping of a sparrow, when it should have vibrated with the finality of a death-toll - slow and brooding. The pressure in Rachel’s chest increased, as if stone after stone were being placed there. Her lungs burned, and her skin turned hot and prickly.She was innocent, dammit! Why wouldn’t he believe her?She drew in a searing breath, her body filling, expanding, trembling as it drew in much needed air. She could still imagine seeing Jackson standing at the door, his lean body braced against anything she had to say, his eyes averted, unwilling even to look at her.I’m innocent , she’d wanted to scream again and again until he believed her. But to do so would cast his suspicions elsewhere, and that she couldn’t risk. Not until she knew the truth herself. She hadn’t been the only one at each of the parties. Penny had been there as well, mingling with the guests, walking through the houses
‘I’ve screwed things up, Derrick.’ Jackson slipped his hands into the pockets of his Alfani slacks and faced his sales manager.‘God, Jackson, and here I thought you walked on water.’ Uncrossing his feet and taking them off the desktop, Derrick sat forward with his elbows braced on his thighs. ‘So spill. What’s going on with the investigation?’Rubbing his palm over the back of his neck, Jackson circled the confines of his office. ‘Remember that necklace I bought from Rachel Gold?’‘Yeah, brilliant move.’ Derrick shook his head without disturbing a single strand of precision-combed brown hair. ‘But don’t sweat it. I think I’ve found a buyer.’‘Don’t bother.’ Jackson selected a photo from the creased manila folder lying on his cluttered desk. Leaving Rachel that morning, her pleading gaze stabbing him in the back, he’d crushed the file in his hand to keep from going to her. The temptation to hold her, then strangle her had been overwhelming. Handing the picture to his manager, he said,
Rachel took a sip of red wine, letting the dark, velvety taste pool on her tongue before it eased down her throat. She rarely drank more than one glass of wine, not liking the way it dulled her senses, but tonight she thought she might have a second. She could use a bit of numbing to take off the edge.Since leaving Jackson’s office, her nerves had become twisted ropes of energy, amplifying every thought and emotion she possessed as well as those she picked up from others. The trip to the grocery store had become unbearable. The frustration of women trying to balance work and family, a stressed check-out clerk, a manager who was furious over receiving a shipment of milk that had already expired had all somehow woven into her own frantic state. She’d felt them all in a way she’d never experienced before. It had been overwhelming, even painful, leaving her nerves raw and exposed.Taking a fortifying drink of wine, she vowed to regain control of the safe environment she’d created for her
That hadn’t kept her from dreaming, though. She knew there was a man for her; she just hadn’t found him yet. One day she’d know what a physical relationship would be like, but she also wanted something deeper. Whoever she eventually married would have to understand her, share her dreams, be there to build a future with her, and love her unconditionally.She didn’t want to think it, knew it would be futile and useless and lead her nowhere, but Jackson looked as if he belonged in her home. She could picture him stretched out with her on her sofa watching TV, or using her shower, or lying in herbed with his arms wrapped around her. The visions seemed so real, so effortless that they could have already happened and were now a part of her memory.The pressure in her throat spread to her chest, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe. Rachel hurried into the kitchen where she leaned against the counter, eyes closed, and searched inside herself for some sort of calm. She didn’t expect to find
Stopping at a red light, Rachel closed her tired, burning eyes and took a sip of herbal tea from a travel mug. Though she’d brushed her teeth several times, she could still taste the bitter residue of wine from the night before. A dull thudding had taken up residence in her temples, behind her eyes and at the base of her skull.No more drinking, she swore. And no more dinners with Jackson. Though she doubted she’d have to worry much about that. Not after the way he’d left her. Cold anger had deadened his eyes. He’d pulled away, both mentally and physically. She’d imagined layer after layer of polished steel settling over him, molding to his features, turning him hard and unbending. His order to hand over the invoice had been a blatant threat - one she didn’t dare challenge for fear he’d turn her in to the police before she could prove Penny wasn’t involved. How she would manage that without tipping Jackson off, she didn’t know.‘The light’s green, Rachel. Do you intend to go or sit he
'Of course we’d have a bill-of-sale, only it isn’t. . .’ Jackson reached out with one hand, gripped her upper arm and pulled her to him. ‘Don’t try to lie and tell me it isn’t here.’‘I ... I wasn’t.’ Though that was exactly what she’d intended to do. She needed to buy some time so she could question Emily and Penny without Jackson listening. ‘Why are you assuming it’s stolen? Are you preprogrammed to always think the worst of me?’‘The vase is hot, Rachel.’‘How do I know that? Because you say so?’ She drew a shuddering breath. ‘You come into my store throwing accusations without backing them up. How do I know you didn’t plant it yourself? I don’t know you that well, either, Jackson. Maybe you’re so desperate to save your business you’ll sabotage mine, offer me up as a sacrificial lamb.’He pushed closer, trapped her between the wall and his body. She thought about struggling, but knew the effort would be futile. Besides, she wasn’t afraid of him - what he could do to her business, y
'Excuse me.' Jackson tugged on his hand, but the cunning little witch refused to loose her grip on him. He wasn’t going to fall for the pleading look in her eyes or the smoky seductiveness of her voice. She was up to something, and she was right when she’d said he wouldn’t like it. He didn’t. Not one damn bit. ‘Just what kind of game are you playing?’Her silky lashes flickered as if she was taken back by his challenging tone. ‘It’s not a game. What I have in mind makes perfect sense.’Cold air pumped through the vents, but sweat beaded on his forehead. Whether it was from the morning heat, finding the vase in Rachel’s store or because of her hold on him, he couldn’t decide. ‘Then spell it out for me, quick, because I’m leaving in two minutes.’‘All right, let’s look at the facts. Rare, expensive items are being stolen. I didn’t take them, but somehow two of them have ended up in my store.’ ‘There are only two because I haven’t searched your house yet, which I intend to rectify,’ hei
Arriving with the destructive force of a flash flood, Jackson’s dark eyes took on the appearance of bruised clouds whipped with icy rain. The air around him sizzled with trapped electricity. The hair on Rachel’s arms stood on end, tracking a path up to her nape where tingles crept across her scalp. She thought it odd for the sky to be clear and crisp and softening with the approaching dusk. Heated wind should be beating against the wooden slats of her house, while stinging rain slashed her windows. But the storm had come inside - with her. Somehow she had to get rid of it.She tilted her head back and held her ground as Jackson stepped into her entry way. Her grip on the doorknob tightened and she planted her other hand on the wooden trim, blocking his path. ‘You’re not coming inside.’He hesitated, backed up a step. His eyes narrowed a calculating degree. ‘Aren’t you acting a little childish?’‘About letting a virtual stranger into my home? A man who has done nothing but harass me an