The Bride's Secrets. Debra Webb
stopped at the passenger door and stared at her across the car’s roof. “Two hours,” he confirmed. “You have two hours to explain yourself, and then I’m gone.”
She nodded, her blue eyes wide with worry. Her blond hair was still damp and clung to her face like tendrils of silk.
He said nothing more. Got into the car.
She settled behind the wheel and put the vehicle in Drive.
“Where are we going?”
She glanced at him before rolling forward. “Where we should have gone two weeks ago.”
He frowned. Two weeks ago they would have gone on…
Their honeymoon?
Chapter Five
Crystal Lake, 2:00 a.m.
Eve parked beneath the canopy of trees near the rented cabin. The lack of moonlight left them in darkness, which was just as well, since she was relatively sure she wouldn’t like what she saw in J.T.’s brown eyes.
He hadn’t said a word since they’d left Chicago. Almost an hour later, her nerves were completely frayed. So many times she’d wanted to kick off the conversation. Just get it over with. But she couldn’t take the risk. She’d needed him away from the city, and the danger, before she reopened communication.
This far out he wasn’t likely to walk away.
She’d taken his cell phone and wallet. Until she had him convinced of her theory, she needed him basically at her mercy.
Shooting him wasn’t an option.
She got out of the car, reached into the backseat and grabbed her bag and stalked to the cabin. The honeymoon arrangements had been her idea. Convincing J.T. to stay close to home after the wedding, owing to her work commitments, had been easy enough. She’d rented the cabin for a month, rather than the weekend she’d told him about. Having a backup plan was her motto. She never left home without one.
Digging the key from her soggy bag, she breathed a sigh of relief for the first time in weeks. Two to be exact.
But this was far from over.
“If this is a joke, I’m not amused.”
It wasn’t a joke and she wasn’t amused, either. This was about survival.
“We can talk inside.”
She pushed through the door and left it open. If she was lucky, he would follow without any additional persuasion.
But then—she flipped on a light and turned to wait for his entrance—she’d never been one to wait on luck. Her fingers itched to reach into her bag and grab the Glock, make this easy.
Easy wouldn’t work with J.T. He had to come around on his own terms. She’d learned that, if nothing else, in the couple of months they’d spent together.
Tall and gorgeous as ever, he loomed in the doorway, his T-shirt still damp and clinging to his chest. The bloody stain on his left sleeve a reminder that he’d been injured. She didn’t know all the details related to last night’s attack, but she was certain the incident had nothing to do with their situation. He’d mentioned the head of the Colby Agency’s grandchild. Maybe the injury had something to do with that.
Before she could stop herself, her gaze had traveled down the length of him. From his dark hair and eyes to the still-soggy trousers molded to his muscled thighs. Her pulse skipped in spite of her determination not to react to him physically. Apparently that wasn’t a facet of this situation she had under control just yet.
That was something else she’d learned recently. She wasn’t completely immune to certain…things.
And he was one of them.
Just when she thought maybe she might need her Glock after all, he stepped into the room and closed the door. Would wonders never cease?
He’d promised her two hours. The clock was ticking.
Eve tossed her bag onto the sofa and plowed her fingers through her hair. It was almost dry now, but it smelled like nasty harbor water. “There’s a change of clothes in the bedroom.” She nodded toward his arm. “You should probably shower and clean up that wound. I’ll make some coffee.”
He looked around the room. It was the perfect getaway. That was why she’d chosen it. The small but upscale kitchen with an intimate dining spot included a magnificent view of the trees and mountains surrounding them. A cozy living room with a fireplace—not that they would need it in July—comfy leather furniture, no distractions. No television, no VCR, no radio. Just a CD player with a collection of let’s-make-love music. And wine. She had made sure there was wine and food, along with a couple of changes of clothes. She knew his size…by heart.
“Then,” he said, that dark gaze colliding with hers, “I’m going to ask questions and you’re going to answer them. All of them.”
He gave her his back and headed for the only other room in the cabin: the bedroom suite. Jacuzzi tub, a shower large enough to dance in. And a massive king-size bed surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows.
Not exactly your regular, everyday cabin.
This one was designed and furnished for making memories.
The forever kind.
Eve hadn’t made a forever kind of memory in her entire life.
Starting now would be a mistake.
J.T. PEELED THE BANDAGE from his biceps. Winced. A little bleeding from the physical exertion in the water, but he’d live.
He tossed the soiled bandage into the trash and stared at his reflection in the mirror. What the hell had Eve gotten herself into?
The better question was, what the hell was he doing in the middle of it?
He braced his hands on the counter and closed his eyes against the light. The water was running in the shower but it would have to wait. He badly needed to pull himself together here. She’d drugged him. He didn’t have to confirm his suspicion. The grogginess and slowed reactions were confirmation enough.
He’d lost an entire day of his life. That much he’d figured out. Ian had dropped him off at his place last night, technically night before last, since it was past midnight. Someone had attacked him in his own house. He remembered absolutely nothing after that until he woke up in the warehouse.
J.T. opened his eyes and grimaced as he rubbed the back of his head. If she had planned to drug him, why whack him on the head?
Just another question he intended to ask.
He kicked off his shoes and stripped off his clothes. His arm ached with the effort. Stepping into the shower, he embraced the hot water, which felt good pounding his flesh. He stood there and let it pour over him for a while. Until his tense muscles relaxed a bit.
Those moments when her lips had sealed across his kept replaying in his mind. He’d missed her so much, even when he’d learned she wasn’t who he thought she was. The need to touch her again, to see her, still thrived in his veins—however hard he’d attempted to squelch the lingering need. Those long blond tresses…her toned body…and those blue eyes.
He shook his head, hating the fact that she could still make him want her so badly.
He didn’t even know who she was…where she’d come from…nothing.
She’d fooled him, used him for purposes still unknown to him.
This woman had stolen his firm grip on reality.
He needed answers.
Making fast work of washing his hair and his body, he quickly mentally prioritized the numerous questions he intended to ask.
As soon