Assumed Identity - By Julie Miller Page 0,52
Spartan abode. There was not one painting to give it color, no photograph to give any hint of what was important to Jake, no knickknack of any kind to give her any clue about her mysterious rescuer. There was certainly no sign of a family or that he ever entertained visitors, given the single chair and the sofa she suspected was there to serve as his bed rather than seating for guests. No wonder he lacked the social skills of other men she knew—he never got any practice socializing.
Is that what was he getting out of his agreement to help her and Emma? The chance to be a little less alone? He certainly didn’t need her money, judging by the large roll of cash he pulled from the dresser. “You don’t believe in banks?” she asked.
“I believe in being prepared.” He stuffed the wad into the front pocket of his jeans.
“What are you preparing for?” she asked. “What do you think is going to happen?”
He’d charged to her rescue more than once, yet hid in the fringes of her life, avoiding contact with the police and almost anyone else. Beyond the striking silver-white hair and scars that she suspected made most people stare in morbid fascination or turn away in fear, he cursed and made cryptic comments. He shied away from holding a harmless baby, yet had no qualms about putting a stranglehold on an attacker. Maybe a few lessons in standard, polite behavior could be her gift to him—teaching him how to make friends, her way of thanking him. She might as well start with lesson number one. “It wouldn’t kill you to answer a question when someone asks it.”
“I don’t know what’s coming next, so I don’t know what to say.”
“‘I don’t know’ is an answer,” she pointed out. “It doesn’t hurt you to just say so. And I won’t feel like you’re avoiding me again.”
His eyes seemed particularly icy when they glanced at her. But he opened the closet door and shifted his attention there.
Robin tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and frowned at his broad back. Maybe friendship wasn’t what he was hoping for, after all. While there’d been little familiarity with the process in that first kiss tonight, she’d been more sure of Jake’s desire for her in those few moments he’d trapped her between the wall and his kiss than she’d been with Brian or any other man she’d been in a long-term relationship with. Besides, the man was a fast learner when he put his mind to it. She could count on one hand the number of times the memory of a kiss had stayed with her, and that greedy, grabby passion-fest tonight topped the list. Jake’s overt masculinity triggered something ultra-feminine, vaguely nurturing and maybe just a little bit reckless inside her. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to soften some of those rough edges and tutor him in the finer points of building a relationship, or if she wanted to throw caution to the wind and hold on for wherever the ride with Jake would take her.
Still, she knew next to nothing about the man. She sensed a horrible conflict inside him, and more secrets than most men had the strength to carry. He was armed and dangerous. Correction, he was dangerous even without being armed.
She shouldn’t want him like she did. The overachiever in her shouldn’t be toying with the idea of taming him, helping him deal with the demons that scarred his face and haunted his ice-blue eyes. She was certain to get burned, likely to fail. She shouldn’t trust him. And yet, she’d placed her and Emma’s lives in his hands. Whatever he wanted in return, whatever he needed, she vowed to give it willingly.
A week ago, Robin wouldn’t have ventured into this neighborhood, just a few blocks from her shop, beyond the renovation of blighted downtown properties that Brian Elliott and other entrepreneurs were reclaiming. She certainly wouldn’t have come here at night, with Emma in tow. Yet, with Jake walking by her side, she’d felt safe parking out front and carrying Emma into the old apartment building. These feelings about Jake were as irrational as they were deep. Maybe she should indulge the more practical side of her nature and get some answers to back up what her heart and soul were far too ready to believe—that he was a good man with a good heart, and that he would never knowingly hurt her