She had been. Only… “It wasn’t loaded,” she whispered.
“Fuck me.” He grabbed her arm and started hauling her to who the heck knew where.
Frantic, Jasmine glanced over her shoulder. “What about Wayne? Is he—”
“Alive and running away.”
She heard the thud of footsteps then. Well, she thought that she heard them. It was hard to tell because of her frantically beating heart and her own rushed footsteps. “Guess after last time, he didn’t want to mess with you again.”
He shoved the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was mostly thinking about survival.” She struggled to keep up with his fast pace.
“A gun? No bullets?”
“I’ve never used a gun before.” Wayne had been so right on that one. “I didn’t want to accidentally shoot myself.” She also hadn’t been prepared to shoot anyone else. Score another point for the bounty hunter. He seemed to know his prey pretty well.
“I don’t believe this.” Drake finally stopped the dragging and stalking routine. His hand dropped away from her.
They were in the darkness, no street lights around, so she couldn’t see his face, but Jasmine was sure she didn’t want to read his expression anyway. “I didn’t ask you to follow me. Why don’t you just wander right back over to Bourbon Street and forget all about me, okay? I can handle myself.”
“Doubtful.”
Jerk. “I’ve been doing it just fine for twenty-eight years,” she bit out.
“And you’ve got a bounty hunter on your tail! Him and an FBI Agent!”
Her breath huffed out in surprise. Was he talking about Victor Monroe? “Wh-what FBI Agent?”
“The one who is chomping at the bit to get you into custody. The way I see it, I’m the only thing standing between you and two very bad spots.”
Wayne.
The FBI.
“You don’t know what’s happening.” She inched away from him.
“Then why don’t you explain things to me.”
“You left me.” Wow, okay, that was a lot of rage cracking there. She hadn’t meant to say— “You said you’d keep me safe, and at the first opportunity, you walked away without a backwards glance. I trusted you!”
She had not meant to say any of that. Not a word. How had all of that just erupted out of her mouth?
Jasmine snapped her lips closed.
Drake just stared down at her.
“Leave me alone,” Jasmine ordered as she started to brush by him.
His fingers caught her wrist. “Or what? You’ll count to five and pretend to shoot me?”
So he’d heard all that? He’d been in the shadows, silent and watchful, while she’d been terrified? Jasmine tried to yank her wrist from him. “This isn’t funny! It’s not a game. It’s my life—”
He pulled her flush against him. “I know it’s no game. The people in that casino that your lover tried to bomb—they matter to me.”
Her lover? “He’s not.”
“What?”
“He’s not my lover, okay? I don’t know what you think you know or what you’ve heard, but he isn’t.”
“Right. Like I’m supposed to believe your lies. You screwed me. You screwed him—”
“Stop it.” Her voice was flat and cold.
And…Drake stepped away.
“Don’t you stand there and judge me. Don’t ever say things like that to me again, do you understand?” That rage was back, and she didn’t care that she was on a street corner in the Big Easy. She didn’t care that a bounty hunter and an FBI agent could both be hunting her.
Her pride was too brittle. Her pain too strong.
“I wanted to be with you. You gave me pleasure, and I-I thought I gave you the same thing.” His hands lifted as if he’d touch her again. She couldn’t let him do that. Jasmine jumped away from Drake. “Then you turned your back on me as if I were nothing. You wouldn’t even talk to me.”
“Jasmine…”
“My sex life is my own. I don’t judge you. Don’t question you. And you have no right to throw accusations at me.” She turned away from him, her shoulders hunching. “And you have no right,” now her voice was hoarse, “to make me feel like I’m a whore—”
“No!”
She tried to draw in a shuddering breath but she couldn’t because he had his hands on her. He’d spun her around to face him. “You’re not a whore, and I’m sorry…” His words roughened. “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. You touched me, got to me too deep, and I struck out at you.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled Jasmine against his chest. She could feel the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. “You were too close, and I was an idiot for trying to push you away.”
Stupid hope started to grow in her chest. No one…no one had ever said anything like that to her before. You were too close. He spoke as if she mattered to him, and he sounded so sincere.
Believe him. That was the voice of the desperate girl she’d been, so long ago. The one who’d imagined that people could be good. That life wasn’t always about the darkness she saw all around her every single day.
She’d imagined that men could love. It wasn’t always just about buying pleasure for a night.
“I want you to come back with me.”
Such beautiful, tempting words. But… “I can’t…”
“Jasmine, come back with me. Please.”Ah, that strangled word was lovely, but he didn’t understand.
“I made a mistake. I-I called Maxwell from your house. He would’ve had your address already,” she said, rushing out those words but they didn’t exactly alleviate her guilt. “But already he knew that I was there, with you.” He would’ve already known the exact location of that house. “He said he was coming after me.”
“Let him come. I want to face the bastard.”
“No, you don’t.” Drake was tough, sure, and he’d done his time in the military, but the guy wasn’t on Maxwell’s twisted level—Maxwell had no conscience. He would hurt anyone who got in his way. “He sent Wayne after me, and Maxwell won’t be far behind.” She should pull out of his arms. She didn’t. “I have to go so that Maxwell will follow me.”
He eased away. Just enough to stare down at her in the darkness. “You think that if you leave, he won’t come after me? That he’ll focus just on you?”
No, she thought he’d still go after Drake, but she had a plan.
“I should’ve kept that bounty hunter,” Drake said, the words low and hard. “Made him talk.”
She shivered.
Drake shook his head. “Wait. What the hell am I doing? I know better. We can’t just stay out here.” And he was back to pulling her down the street. Or rather, he pulled her back to Canal Street and she was sure grateful to see the bright lights and cars again. Drake opened the door of a Porsche for her, one that had been parked near the edge of the street.
Another Porsche?
Before she could question the man’s choice of cars, he was driving away with her.
And she just let him do it.
The city passed in a blur and she pounded her head against the seat rest.
She felt his eyes sweep over her. “Want to tell me what that’s about?”
That? Her head-pounding routine? “I shouldn’t be trusting you.”
“Why?”
That point should be obvious. “Because you’ll hurt me again.”
They stopped at a red light. Jasmine looked toward Drake, and she saw his fingers tighten around the steering wheel.
“You get to me,” she confessed. That was the whole reason she was in the car with him right then and not running like mad down the streets of New Orleans. “You make me feel…feel in ways I haven’t before.”
His head turned. He held her gaze.
“You were looking for me.” It hadn’t just been a walk on the wild side of Bourbon Street.
Drake nodded.
“Why?” So much depended on what he had to say. Her fingers curved around the handle of the door. She could jump out. Flee fast right then and get on the trolley.
“Because I need you.”
Jasmine’s breath left her in a rush.
A car horn sounded behind them.
“Don’t take me back to your house in the Quarter. He’ll just have eyes there.” Maxwell would have eyes everywhere.
“Don’t worry, princess,” Drake said as he drove them forward. “From here on out, I’ve got you.”
“She’s here,” Wayne said into his phone as he hurried down the New Orleans’ street. “But Archer is still sticking to her like glue—”
“And you didn’t think to pull her away from him?”
Wayne glanced to the left. To the right. The street looked deserted. “The bastard is tough. I’m just biding my time until I can attack.”
“No, you’re being a coward. And your services—they’re rather disappointing.”
Lights flashed on then. Bright and blinding. Lights from a car that shouldn’t have been so close.
If I’m watching Jasmine…who does he have on me? That thought rushed through his mind once more. Too late, this time.
“No…” Wayne whispered.
“Disappointing and no longer needed. And…by the way…”
The car was accelerating toward him. Wayne tried to run.
He had to make it across the street. Maybe he could break down the door of that old voodoo shop and—
The car didn’t hit him.
Bullets did.
And then Wayne hit the pavement.
Chapter Seven
When she walked through the casino, she could hear the slot machines, playing like music. No, playing over the music that filled the Masquerade. She spun around, her gaze caught by the glitter and glamour all around her. The casino was decorated in Mardi Gras style, with purple, gold, and green colors featured prominently. Large masks hung on the walls, masks that seemed to watch the casino-goers with glee.
The place was gorgeous. Phenomenal.
Then Jasmine looked up—up at the chandeliers that shone like diamonds above her. Amazing.
Drake’s arm wrapped around her waist. “Do you like it?”
She thought about the home she’d had as a kid. The old trailer on the rough patch of land that no one else wanted. “It’s…a little excessive.”
He laughed lightly. “It was the trees in the lobby, right?”
She didn’t even know how those trees—real trees—were alive out in the lobby.
“When you come from nothing,” Drake said as he guided her toward a private elevator. “Sometimes you want everything.” He swiped a keycard over the security control panel, and the elevator’s doors slid open.
The mirrored walls of the elevator tossed Jasmine’s reflection right back at her.
“What do you want?” Drake asked her.
The elevator was rising. He was close to her. So very close. Drake seemed to fill that small space.
She had decided to be as honest with him as she could be. Because Drake mattered and, most shocking of all, he seemed to be saying that she mattered to him, too.
I need you.
“I want to belong.” To some place. To somebody. She wanted a home. A real one. When the holidays came around, she wanted to bake cookies and stare up at a Christmas tree and be held in the arms of a man who loved her.
She didn’t want to be alone forever.
“You can belong to me.”
Her knees did a little jiggle. Had the elevator stopped rising? The doors hadn’t opened but it felt as if they weren’t moving any longer.
He came toward her and put his hands on either side of her, pressing his palms flat against the mirror behind her and caging Jasmine against his body. “Do you want to belong to me?”
Her head was spinning. She’d thought that he’d just walked away from her. But he’d searched for her. Protected her, again, and now he was offering her…
Hope.
“I want to be with you.” The attraction she felt for him was unlike anything she’d experienced before. When he touched her, Jasmine’s heart raced. When he kissed her, she went molten. And when he was in her, she exploded.
“Then be with me.” His head lowered. His lips brushed against hers.
The kiss was tender. Open-mouthed. Hot. And she was molten—again. Jasmine knew her panties were getting wet. She wanted to shove off his clothes. To have sex with him right there. Then.
No restrictions. No fears. She wanted the pleasure he could give here once more.
Without the shame.
Her hand pushed against his chest.
Drake’s head lifted.
“Don’t walk away again.” She couldn’t handle that. Not from him.
Drake nodded. His gaze held hers. “And don’t run from me.”
Her eyes searched his. There was something there, in his stare. An emotion that she couldn’t quite define.
“Because if you ran, then I’d be like Maxwell. Chasing you through the streets.” His laugh held a rough edge. “Or I guess I already am like him.”
“No.” Her denial was swift. “You could never be like him.”
A muscle flexed near his jaw.
“You’re safe here,” Drake told her. “Security has been doubled. Maxwell and his men won’t get to you here.” He backed away. Used that keycard again and the doors opened. “I have a room here that we can use for the night. Private quarters that I keep.”