his face hidden by shadows and his body revealed by flickering tongues of firelight. My face burned and I had to look away. What was the matter with me? There was every chance he was one of the bad guys and I couldn’t keep myself from thinking about him naked. I was disgusting.
I shook my head slightly to clear it of the disturbing image I’d conjured up. “If you followed me because you wanted to talk, why did you wait so long before coming to the room?” Or better yet, why hadn’t he just said his piece back at Nora’s?
I backed away a little farther. Maybe it was because he wanted to cut me into little pieces and leave me somewhere in a gym bag. I winced at the thought—ugh, no. Don’t go there. What if he sensed my fear?
Or worse, what if he liked it?
“I thought you might be…busy.” He looked around the room. “I wouldn’t have interrupted at all, but I couldn’t wait all day.” He hesitated, then continued, “Look, personally I don’t care what kind of business you’re in, but you need to leave Nora out of it. If she gets mixed up with you, it’ll only be bad for her and Ruby. Do we understand each other?”
“Sure,” I agreed. “You got it. I will absolutely leave Nora out of things from now on.” When he made no move to leave, I added a fake, cheerful, “Bye now,” and gestured toward the door.
At that point, I would have promised Jackson I’d dance the Macarena naked in the town square if it would get him out of there sooner.
He reached for the doorknob, then looked back at me, his dark, sexy features arranged in a scowl. “I’m not trying to come across like I’m on some high horse, judging you for making a living. Everyone’s got a story—I know that better than anyone. I just don’t think your line of work is something Nora and Ruby should get mixed up in.”
“What?” I squinted up at him. Was he…apologizing? He certainly didn’t sound like someone who’d been stalking me for months. And what did he mean, my line of work? Was he seriously worried hanging out with a waitress might get Nora into trouble? She was a bartender, for God’s sake.
Then his words sunk in. He probably had no clue I was a waitress. In fact, all he knew about me was that I’d been sucking face with some guy in the parking lot of a bar last time we’d met. And now he’d found me holed up in a cheap motel room. I closed my eyes and allowed myself a brief second of mortification.
He thought I was a hooker.
His assumption galled me, but I gritted my teeth and pasted on another fake smile. “Well, see you around.” I gestured at the door again, in no position to correct his mistake. I just needed him gone. Like five minutes ago.
But still, he didn’t leave.
“Hey, are you all right?” He looked beyond me to the destroyed motel room for the first time since entering. Then his gaze returned to rake over my body, taking in the still-damp, faintly pink splotches on my white T-shirt and the darker, drying patches of blood on my jeans.
“Sure am.” I stepped closer to physically herd him toward the door. “Never been better.”
He looked unconvinced and I ground my teeth together even harder. What could I do to make him leave? I was going to need a root canal if he didn’t get out soon.
“Um, I don’t mean to be rude,” I said, “but I’ve got a client coming soon, so…”
The same part of me that was crazily, foolishly attracted to him yelled at me for letting him continue to think I was a hooker, but what choice did I have? I leaned past him to open the door, hoping he’d take the hint and leave already.
He still frowned doubtfully, but reached for the doorknob anyway and my hand landed on his. The skin-on-skin contact felt like I’d just been tased, and I pulled my hand back as if stung. I swayed a little as I looked up to gauge his reaction. Had he felt that too?
Jackson’s jaw was clenched and his pupils dilated as I looked up at him. He stared down at me, his