Fourteen weeks earlier
“I wasn’t sure I could convince you to have dinner with me,” Jake said, peering over the restaurant menu.
I can’t believe you did but… Angela raised her eyes to meet his. “An invitation for dinner at the Hotel del Coronado accompanied by three dozen roses is hard to turn down.”
She smiled uneasily. He didn’t know she had agreed to the date only because it was in a neutral setting, although he looked at her as if he suspected as much. Too bad. This was the best she could do, all she intended to do. And she would make it clear before the evening was over that this was the last time she would see him. She was sure he had plenty of other women at his disposal, so she felt no guilt about pushing him away. Jake Stone meant nothing to her. And other than being another potential conquest, she figured Angela Reardon meant nothing to him.
After a slightly awkward start to the evening, they both relaxed and eased into comfortable repartee. Jake made her laugh and responded appreciatively to her subtle humor.
He was an excellent conversationalist, and they discussed a wide variety of subjects. Nothing personal, but thoughtful, intelligent topics. The few men she had dated since leaving LA had been boring geeks or macho egotists. Those dates had never ended fast enough. But as the three-hour dinner drew to a close, Angela realized she was genuinely disappointed. It had been a very long time since she had enjoyed herself so much. And now she had to say good-bye—permanently—to this intriguing man.
As they exited the restaurant, the brisk ocean breeze greeted them. The crash of waves drew her attention to the white sand beach beyond the manicured lawns of the hotel grounds.
“Would you like to walk on the beach?” Jake asked quietly.
She surprised herself by answering, “That sounds nice.”
His hand pressed against the small of her back, guiding her toward the sidewalk that led to the beach. It was the first time he’d touched her all evening. She stiffened slightly. Please don’t…
Before they reached the sand, Jake bent down to remove his shoes and socks and to roll up his pants.
Angela slipped off her heels and laced her fingers through the straps. She stepped into the wet sand, cool and squishy beneath her bare feet. The wind whipped the hair around her face and the tiered skirt around her legs. Of their own accord, her arms lifted like wings. She closed her eyes and spun around.
How long had it been since she’d sought solace at the beach? The sights, the smells, the sounds were like long-lost friends. Peaceful. Carefree. The demons hiding in her memory were blown away. She was weightless, floating.
Jake Stone ceased to exist until her spinning caused her to stumble. His strong arm caught her around the waist and steadied her.
The physical contact broke the spell, and she plummeted back to earth. She blinked him into focus and saw surprise and something indefinable in his intense eyes. She pushed at his chest, but he pulled her closer.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“Don’t what?” His lips were too near hers.
“Please…don’t.” She gulped and turned her face away.
“I just want to kiss you,” he said, nuzzling her hair. “One…little…kiss.”
“No. Don’t.” She could hear the hint of panic in her own voice.
After a moment’s hesitation, his arms dropped away, and he stepped back. “Why do you treat me like a leper? What’s so repulsive about me?” Anger sparked from his flint eyes.
“You’re hardly repulsive.” She stared out to the black horizon. “Maybe you should just take me home.”
“Maybe.” He cleared his throat. “But I’d rather take a walk on the beach with you.”
For a long moment, she couldn’t respond. Then she glanced up at him and locked eyes. “Okay.” She started down the beach. When he didn’t follow, she stopped and turned. Jake’s hands were jammed into his pockets, an unreadable expression on his face. “Coming?” She smiled encouragement.
Not smiling, he trotted to catch up. They strolled for several minutes without speaking.
“I’m sorry,” Angela said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I’ve had a lovely evening, and I didn’t mean to ruin it.”
“Okay.” He kicked up the sand with his toes as he walked.
She sighed. “Unless you object, I don’t plan to write up the furniture rearrangement suggestions I made since they were so minor. The bill for my services will be minimal, but I’ll get it out this week so I can close the file.”
He stopped abruptly, snagged her wrist, and swung her around. “I’m just a file to you. Is that it?”
Caught off guard by the resentment in his voice, she stammered, “Y-you’re a c-client.”
“Right.” He shook his head. “What if I want to get to know you on a more personal level?”
She glared at the hand gripping her wrist and tensed. “Why?”
He frowned. “Why? Because you’re fascinating, intelligent…and beautiful.”
“I don’t date much.”
He cocked his head. “That can’t be because you aren’t asked.”
“No, it’s because I…” Her free hand swept the air between them as if that explained everything. “I’m a very private person.”
“Me, too.”
A smirk touched her lips. “I highly doubt that.”
“It’s true. I know a lot of people, but I don’t have close friends.”
She rolled her eyes. “How many women have you dated in the last month?”
“That’s different.”
“Is it? Why?”
He looked at her as though she were from another planet. “They aren’t…friends. The women I usually date are mostly looking for…something else.”
“And that is?”
His grip tightened, and his expression turned cold. Then he seemed to reconsider. He dropped her wrist. “Forget it. I’m not looking for another fuck buddy. I have plenty of those. I was hoping for a woman with enough brains to carry on a decent conversation. Someone to argue politics. Someone to discuss current events. Someone to commiserate with about the hassles of running your own business.” Suggestively, his gaze moved over her, from her polished toenails to the wisps of hair flitting about her eyes. “So, if you’re just looking for a good screw, forget it. As I said, I’ve got plenty of fuck buddies.”
Angela’s jaw dropped.
Jake snorted and walked quickly back down the beach.
When she caught up with him, she yanked him around hard. “How dare you!”
“What?” he asked, wearing a deadpan expression.
“How dare you accuse me of…of that?”
“Isn’t that what your actions have been silently accusing me of since the moment we met?”
She recoiled at the accusation. The truth hurt. But Jake Stone didn’t know her demons. Her past. Her scars.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Jake. I did judge you that way.”
They stared at each other, ignoring the cold water swirling around their bare feet.
His fingers lifted her chin as he stepped closer. “May I?”
She nodded just before his lips brushed hers.
* * *
Jake sped north on the freeway toward home. He drove on autopilot because his mind was on Angela Reardon. Specifically, imagining her naked. He had noticed she never wore clothes that attracted attention to her figure, but he was confident that underneath was hidden a gorgeous, sexy body.
His dick hardened when he remembered lifting her onto his bed that first morning. Too bad she’d been unconscious. Too vulnerable. The next night when he’d trapped her against the kitchen counter, she’d aroused him again. And earlier on the beach, when she’d finally let him kiss her, she had tasted so damn good. Being inside her would be even better.
Angela Reardon was, indeed, a fascinating, beautiful, sexy creature.
He frowned.
Hard to believe she was a coldhearted traitor with blood on her hands. What a shame he had to kill her.