Into the Fire - Anne Stuart [45]
“Well, drunk or not, you were too busy trying to beat someone to death and getting arrested for it to remember what went on that night. Weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Something in his voice stopped her. His single-word answer had been matter of fact—there was no reason why she should have thought twice about it. But she did.
She turned around, all the way around, and leaned her back up against the cold metal of the Cadillac. “Who did you beat up? So badly that you went to jail for it?”
“I’m sure Nate told you something,” he said lazily. “Don’t you believe your cousin’s every word?”
“He said it was over a drug deal gone sour.”
“You think the police and the courts would care that much over two drug dealers fighting?”
“Two?”
“I dealt drugs, Jamie, and you know it. Just weed and the occasional percs, but I did it. And I almost killed a man with my bare hands. No wonder they put me away for a year and a half.”
“What man?”
“Boy, really.”
“What boy?”
His smile was faintly mocking. “You know what boy. It’s just taken you twelve years to figure it out.”
“Paul.”
“I broke his jaw, his cheekbone, cracked three ribs, broke several bones in his right hand and bruised his spleen. As I remember he had a concussion and he was pissing blood for a month. I probably would have killed him if people hadn’t pulled me off him. Fortunately a car accident took care of that little detail a few years later.”
“You didn’t have anything to do with that?” she asked in sudden panic.
He shook his head. “I haven’t killed anyone. Not directly. Not yet.”
She swallowed. “That’s doesn’t sound very encouraging.”
“It wasn’t meant to.”
“There had to have been something else going on,” she said. “You couldn’t have been sent to jail for just being in a fight.”
“It wasn’t just a fight, princess. I was trying my best to kill the little bastard. Unfortunately his parents doted on their son, and they had the political clout to make sure I got punished. I would have been locked away for the rest of my life if they’d had their way, but it only ended up a little over a year.”
“That isn’t that long,” she said, still reeling.
“Try spending it in a state prison and you’ll see how long it is. The days crawl along at a snail’s pace. And I spent all that time figuring you were blown away by my heroic defense of your honor. My mistake.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I didn’t know.”
“That’s also true. In the end it doesn’t make any difference. The bottom line is I gave up a year and a half of my life for you, Jamie Kincaid. I think it’s about time I got something back for my sacrifice, don’t you? I’ve waited long enough.”
“Long enough for what?”
“For you, Jamie. You can start by taking off your clothes.”
11
For a moment she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. The garage was still shrouded in darkness, and he hadn’t bothered to turn on a light when he’d approached her, but she could see him quite clearly. Blocking the way to the door.
It didn’t mean she wouldn’t run. There was always the element of surprise, and since she was smaller there was a good chance that she was faster. Running barefoot through ankle-deep snow was beginning to sound far more appealing than to have him put his hands on her. She could still feel the weight of him on top of her, the taste of his mouth from the night before. She couldn’t let that happen again. She couldn’t.
“No,” she said in a flat voice.
If she’d hoped to get the advantage of surprise she lost it when he took another step, so close that his bare feet almost touched hers, so close that she could feel his body heat. He was shirtless, radiating warmth, she was wrapped in layers of clothing and shivering uncontrollably.
“Yeah, right,” he drawled. “I knew about the crush, Jamie. Nate used to tell me all the details. I’m just planning to fulfill your fantasies after twelve years of foreplay.”
“I don’t want you touching me. You’re as bad as Paul.” Her voice shook, but there