Into the Fire - Anne Stuart [103]
“Shut up, Jamie. I don’t want your money. You could have sent the wallet. Hell, you could have had it dropped off at the correctional center.”
“I didn’t know you were there. I would have come—”
“And brought me a file baked in a cake?” he mocked her. “Just as well you didn’t know. I wouldn’t have wanted you there.”
Another slap, but she’d become a glutton for punishment. “I also brought the Cadillac. I couldn’t very well send that.”
“I figured we were even. I destroyed your car—I owed you one. I should have realized the Cadillac would be the last car you’d want. Give me enough time and I can find a car just about identical to yours, though maybe with fewer miles on it.”
“I don’t care about my car.”
“Fine. I don’t care about the Cadillac. So where does that leave us?”
“Nowhere, I guess. I just thought we should have some closure. That we should say goodbye or something.”
“Goodbye.” It was immediate, flat and uncompromising, and she had no choice. She turned and headed for the door, almost tripping over a cat that wove its way around her ankles. She stopped to pick it up, and it purred happily, rubbing his face against hers.
“Where did the cat come from?”
“I have three of them. A bequest from Mouser. I figured I needed something to help with the rats since Nate’s not around anymore.”
His flat statement was so shocking she almost laughed. Instead she put the cat back on the floor, giving it one last stroke.
She didn’t want to leave. Couldn’t leave. But he was giving her nothing to hold on to.
“My mother’s doing well,” she said suddenly. “The bullet missed her heart.”
“The Duchess doesn’t have a heart. And I didn’t hear me asking about your mother. I don’t give a shit.”
“No,” she said. “Of course you don’t. Sorry I bothered you.”
“You always bothered me.” She already had her hand on the doorknob, but something in his voice stopped her. Some last, crazy flash of hope.
“Ask me to stay,” she said, her back to him, her voice so quiet he probably couldn’t hear her.
But he did. “Stay.”
She turned around to look at him. “Just like that?” she said.
He pushed away from the table. “Just like that.” And he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms.
He didn’t kiss her. He didn’t need to. He just held her, against his warmth, his strength, and she felt whole for the first time in weeks.
He slid his hand up under her hair, rubbing the back of her neck. “This will never work,” he murmured against her hair.
“Of course not,” she said, rubbing her face against his chest. “But think how much it would piss off my mother and Nate.”
She heard his laugh, deep in his chest. “Good enough for me,” he said, kissing her, hard.
And it was good enough for her.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4938-1
INTO THE FIRE
Copyright © 2003 by Anne Kristine Stuart Ohlrogge.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
MIRA and the Star Colophon are trademarks used under license and registered in Australia, New Zealand, Philippines, United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.
Visit us at www.mirabooks.com