Her Secret Alibi. Debra Webb
then forced down a gulp of wine. She prayed he didn’t notice the way her hand shook.
“I’m afraid you’d be rather bored with the subject,” she answered. She hated that her voice sounded so thin…so nervous. Where was the strength she knew herself capable of? Where was the real Jolie?
Maybe she was losing more than merely her grip on reality. Maybe she was losing herself.
LATER SIMON INSISTED on walking Jolie to her car. The stars twinkled even brighter now, and the crescent moon looked like a lopsided grin high in the dark Atlanta sky. She smiled, feeling much, much better. Maybe it was the company. She stole a glance at the man beside her.
In profile, Simon Ruhl looked dark and mysterious and utterly gorgeous. Jolie felt giddy with excitement—something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. He was charming and intelligent. Every touch, every look made her feel warm and tingly inside. It was foolish, she knew. But she couldn’t help herself. She felt like a college coed again, out on a date with the most popular hunk on campus.
“This one’s mine,” she said as they neared her Lexus. She stopped when she reached her door, and turned to her dark savior. He really had saved her tonight. Just then his right hand came up to brush a tendril of hair from her cheek, and her breath stalled in her lungs. He was beautiful. Perfect, she amended, like an angel straight from heaven, except he was dark and alluring in a sinful kind of way.
She shivered. The wine, she told herself. It had to be the wine making her so giddy, though she’d consumed scarcely more than a glass. She hadn’t reacted to a man like this since… Who was she kidding? To her knowledge, she had never behaved so irrationally.
“Thank you, Simon,” she said softly, “for dinner and for taking my mind off…things.” She looked up into those dark, dark eyes and forgot anything else she would have said.
“Thank you, Jolie Randolph,” he said just as softly. “For a truly memorable evening.” His smile turned teasing, his words reminding her of her earlier comment about any previous meeting between them having been unmemorable.
Blushing at the faux pas, Jolie stared at her hands as she unconsciously wrung them. How could she have said something so totally lame to this charming and completely gorgeous guy?
As she looked up again Simon moved closer, effectively trapping her between his body and the car. Instead of the warmth he had inspired all evening, unease stole over Jolie. The realization that it was dark and she was alone with a man she had met only hours ago hit her hard. This morning’s panic gripped her all over again. What was wrong with her? Why hadn’t she seen this moment coming? Fresh panic slid down her spine and she flattened herself against the cool metal surface of the car. She had behaved this irrationally before. Last night.
Simon’s gaze latched on to hers, and she knew the instant he recognized her fear.
He stepped back. “I apologize,” he murmured. “It wasn’t my intent to crowd you.”
“I…I should go.” Her heart racing, she reached into her purse for her keys. Her relief was almost palpable when she found them on the first try. She nearly dropped the jangling ring, and Simon took them before she did just that, unlocked and opened her car door.
“Good night, Simon,” she said, as politely as she could manage when he held the keys out for her. She turned away, hoping he wouldn’t notice her jerky movements. She wasn’t losing her mind; she had already lost it. Simon probably thought she was…
She didn’t even want to think about that. This was why she’d never had a decent relationship. She couldn’t trust herself, so how could she trust anyone else? It seemed ludicrous that she’d only this moment realized that sad fact.
“Wait,” he murmured.
Jolie froze. Slowly she faced him once more, the car door between them like a shield. “Yes?” She tensed when he reached toward her, but something in his eyes kept her from drawing away.
He touched her gently, protectively, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She could only stare into those intense pools of darkest brown. His thumb slid over her lower lip, sending a rush of desire straight through her. She trembled. As she watched, he slowly, so very slowly, lowered his face to hers. Jolie’s heart thumped hard. She should run, she knew, but she simply could not. He bypassed her lips and kissed her cheek, lingered there a moment longer than necessary.
“Be safe, Jolie,” he whispered against her skin.
Before she could respond, he turned and walked away.
And she still knew nothing at all about Simon Ruhl.
SIMON SAT IN THE concealing darkness of his SUV and watched as Jolie hurried up the walk leading to her apartment building. A few minutes later the lights came on in her living room, then the bedroom. The blinds closed and Simon shifted his gaze to the street in front of him. She was safe at home…
This time.
He closed his eyes, tightened his grip on the steering wheel and fought the urge to go up and stand guard at her door. Clenching his jaw, he tried without success to banish the images that haunted him. The way she smiled, so innocent and trusting. Her blond hair falling around her shoulders, feathery wisps caressing her face. And those eyes—wide, luminous green with tiny flecks of gold. She looked so fragile and sweetly feminine.
He wanted to keep her safe. That wasn’t part of his job. He would not let anything get in his way this time. Brasco was going down one way or another.
Simon opened his eyes and stared up at the now dark windows. He had to remember that Jolie Randolph was a suspect. No matter how he reacted to her physically, and despite his instincts to the contrary, he had to remember that Jolie was most likely up to her pretty neck in serious trouble. Laundering money for the mob was no petty crime. And if she was involved with Brasco, she deserved whatever she got. Simon shook his head at the degree of stupidity he had shown tonight. He had bent his own first rule by kissing the woman. Brief though it might have been, a kiss was a kiss. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he hadn’t been affected, if he hadn’t wanted to pull her into his arms and make it real…but he had.
Still wanted to. Simon swallowed back the need welling inside him. He swore hotly at his inability to maintain control. He could deal with the fact that Jolie Randolph was beautiful. He could even deal with the slender curves of her toned body. But what he couldn’t turn away from was the sweetness, the innocence she radiated. She needed protecting, and the damned woman didn’t even know it. Whether she was guilty or not, which she probably was, Jolie was on the edge of a deadly precipice. Men like Raymond Brasco played for keeps. Big Ray or any one of his men wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone like Jolie if she got in his way or failed to live up to his expectations. Simon knew that firsthand. The input he’d received from his old colleague at the local Bureau office backed up his every conclusion.
Raymond Brasco hadn’t changed.
Jolie Randolph was in over her head.
And Simon wanted to protect her more than he wanted to take his next breath, and that didn’t sit well with him. He had a job to do. This time it was personal. He had been watching Jolie and another of the bank’s employees, Mark Boyer, for two weeks now. He likely knew more about them than they knew about themselves, particularly Jolie. Simon’s former life in the Federal Bureau of Investigation had taught him every trick in the book when it came to profiling a suspect.
Unfortunately, the time he had spent watching Jolie had somehow evolved into something deeper for him. And that was dangerous, for her and for him. Not to mention it had never happened to him before. Not once. But her circumstances were different. There were things she apparently didn’t know. Things that could tear her whole world apart.
Tomorrow his cover at the bank would be put in place, facilitating the investigation requested by the bank’s board of directors. By hiring the Colby Agency to look into the situation, they hoped to head off a full-fledged federal investigation and possible scandal in the media. With major