Wicked Lies

Loudoun, Tennessee

Damn, he could feel her watching him.

It wasn’t the itch a man got when he was being hunted; he knew that feeling well. This was different. It was an awareness he’d only felt once in his life, with one other person. And if her ghost were going to haunt him, it would have started long before now.

No, the ghost of that young woman wasn’t tracking every move he made. A ghost hadn’t been tracking him for the past three months, either.

As he moved through the crowded clearing next to the lake where the summer weekend gatherings were held, he scanned the tree line covertly, searching for a certain shadow or movement that would identify her hiding place.

What the hell was she up to?

He’d given her plenty of time to come to him and let him know what was going on. More than enough time to stop with the games and mysterious familiarity he glimpsed in her eyes sometimes.

He was better at this game. Most of his life had been spent playing it in the mountains surrounding his home, and often winning had simply meant living another day. And he was still there to prove he knew what he was doing.

The hunter always knew when he was being hunted, though.

Jazz Lancing knew that feeling well. The question was, what exactly did the pretty little thing stalking him want?

The thought sent a chill racing through him, tearing aside any amusement. There was always the chance that some part of his or his adopted brothers’ pasts could be returning to haunt them. But that particular option just didn’t feel right. No, she was just a woman, one with an agenda, one playing a very dangerous game.

“Hey, Jazz, what’s up?” The question had his head turning, his gaze slicing to the other man where he stood against the side of his pickup.

Caine Manning had only been in Loudoun about a year and a half now. He’d bought an old farm outside of town and spent most of his time trying to pull it into shape. The rest of the time he was part of the Maddox family security force known as Kin. But hell, just about every able-bodied, well-trained male in the area with the right mind-set was part of that force.

“Nothin’ much, Caine. You?”

Reaching into the back of the truck and pulling a chilled glass bottle from the tub of ice sitting against the cab, he tossed it Jazz’s way.

Catching it, Jazz glanced at the beer then back to Caine.

“Stay a minute and have a drink.” The other man’s lips quirked with a hard edge as his gaze scanned the crowd. “We’re friends, right?”

Hell, he didn’t need this.

“Yeah, we’re friends.” Twisting the top of the bottle off, he tossed the cap into the back of the truck before leaning against the side. “What does that asshole want now?”

The asshole in question, Cord Maddox, had been noticeably absent when Jazz had needed him the year before. These days Jazz wasn’t in the mood for any favors the other man might need.

“Just a meet,” Caine murmured. “Said to expect him in a few hours. He has a few things he has to take care of first.”

Jazz grunted at the information and took a drink of the beer, his gaze once again scanning the area.

“We’ll see,” he finally answered, catching the surprise that flickered in Caine’s gray eyes. “Tell him I’d like to know where he was when Slade was in New York and we needed his help. He was nowhere to be found.”

Slade was one of Jazz’s brothers, the eldest, the one who had nearly lost his life and the life of his young son while working in DC. Jazz hadn’t appreciated the lack of help when he’d called for it, and he’d sworn then that should Cord need him, then it would just suck for the other man.

Caine nodded slowly. “He said you’d be pissed over that. Said to tell you he was chasing a ghost, and he owes you. The meet isn’t for him, it’s to repay that debt.”

Chasing a ghost.

Jazz froze for a heartbeat of time, some warning sensation rushing through his senses. There was only one ghost he and Cord Maddox could have had in common, and chasing after her was impossible. Unless Cord had figured out how to visit the dead.

The information that this meeting was repayment for being unavailable when he’d been needed was interesting, though. What could the other man have that Jazz would consider valuable enough to cancel that debt?

“I’ll be around,” Jazz told the other man shortly. “Tell him to find me. That’s not an agreement, just a willingness to listen, you hear?”

“I hear ya.” Caine nodded.

Finishing the beer, Jazz tossed the bottle in the trash can tucked into the corner of the pickup’s bed. “If he’s playing games, though, he’ll regret it.”

“I’ll pass the message along,” Caine assured him. “Take it easy, Jazz.”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best.” Turning, Jazz made his way back into the crowd.

Jazz wasn’t in the mood for more games. He’d already forgone his normal weekend attire of cutoff jeans and bare feet for boots, denim, a dark T-shirt, and a knife tucked in his boot. There was a warning brewing in his senses, one he’d become acquainted with years ago and never ignored.

He was ready if trouble came, but trouble hadn’t entered the scene yet, just the awareness of it, the certainty that it was headed his way, in the form of the slight shadow he barely glimpsed that followed him from the side of the hill rising above the clearing.

Using the trees for cover, shielding herself in darkness, she was making her way to him.

And he was waiting for her.

The little schoolteacher was no slouch, either. She’d had practice and she’d obviously had a good teacher at one time. There were several occasions over the past weeks that she’d reminded him of—

The past.

She reminded him of the past and that was something he didn’t want to delve into at the moment. So much so that he had half a mind to ditch Cord’s meeting and just go the hell home.

Right after he confronted his little schoolteacher.

* * *

He couldn’t just stay in one place and let all those simpering, flirting women come to him, could he? Oh hell no, Romeo Lancing had to be in the middle of the crowd where those simpering little twits had an excuse to rub all over him.

She’d heard the rumors that he was a hound dog when she returned to Loudoun, but believing it was something else. You would think watching those women rub over him like cats in heat would be enough proof. The fact that her best friend, Jessie Colter, had told her more than once about Jazz’s inability to form a lasting relationship with a woman was just further proof.

But she remembered the twenty-three-year-old he had been ten summers before, the year she turned seventeen. Popular, wild as the wind, and as charming as any rogue could hope to be. He’d been at her parents’ New Year’s party, and after that he’d become a regular visitor.

Her brothers were at first amused, then irritated. She’d heard of the warnings Jazz had been given where she was concerned. But he’d only had eyes for her. He’d flirted, smiled; he’d lie for her when she hid from her brothers at the gatherings and laugh if they became angry over it.

Once, long ago and far away, she’d been out there, dancing and laughing, secure and certain of her place.

Long ago and far away—

So long ago.

Now Kenni moved in the shadows, watching Jazz, tracking him. Once, she’d attended these weekend get-togethers with her brothers and cousins.

Kenni remembered laughing, flirting, being the social butterfly everyone called her that last summer she’d been home. And as she did all those things, Jazz had watched. He’d smiled when she caught him watching, winking and laughing at her brothers’ wrath.

She would have smiled at the memory if it didn’t hurt so bad.

She hadn’t flirted or danced just for the joy of it, and in the two years since she’d been back in Loudoun she’d learned nothing had changed really. She was still far too attracted to the man who had held such fascination for her when she was younger.

She avoided him, but that didn’t keep her from watching him now as he strode slowly past the bonfire in the center of the clearing. Like a conqueror, a warrior from centuries long gone, he strode past the flames, fierce and unconquerable. Untamed, sexy as hell, sexually renowned, and far too dominant for any woman to ever completely control.

Firelight flickered over his hard features, loved the broad planes and angles and shadowed them perfectly. He looked brooding, intent, and dangerous.

Jazz.

She’d watched him over the past two summers, trying to decide how closely he was tied to her family. Watched as he moved through the gatherings like a panther while everyone else mistook him for an overgrown tomcat. It was almost funny how they missed the animal that lurked around them, always watching, listening, waiting—determined to strike if an enemy showed itself.

At sixteen, almost seventeen, she’d been completely mesmerized by the twenty-three-year-old Jazz. Six and a half feet tall, neon-blue eyes, and rich, thick black hair. He was every girl’s dream, including hers.

She wasn’t a girl anymore. She was an adult and she’d learned just how dangerous it was to need anyone. Jazz was a weakness she simply couldn’t afford. No matter how intent he was on seducing her. But she knew she needed him. And she needed him for something far different from any physical desire that might torment her.

It actually surprised her that he’d stayed in Loudoun though. At thirty-three he’d never married, had no children. The young man had matured into a powerful, dangerously honed adult male cleverly disguised by laughter, jokes, and a facade of innocent, seductive fun.

He’d changed, though. He barely resembled the young man she had known in her teens.

Regret burned inside her chest at the knowledge that she had no idea what had caused those changes in him. She’d been away for eight years with no contact with friends or family and no way of knowing why the Jazz she had known, the one she’d been certain would one day be hers, had lost the gentle softness in his gaze.

Even after her return two years before there was no catching up, no asking why or how or when, because no one knew who she was. The identity she’d returned with would have no cause to know how he’d changed, or why. If anyone here knew who she had been, it would be a death sentence.

The fear of being detected was so strong—and growing stronger by the month now—that she sometimes felt she was becoming paranoid. That the sense of someone watching, waiting, had to be fear rather than fact.

This was the feeling that had her tracking Jazz, had her finally admitting she may need help, despite the terror the thought of revealing herself brought.

She’d been watching him for nearly three months, trying to learn how closely connected he was to her family and the mountain militia group known as the Kin. A group very few people who weren’t a part of were actually aware of.

She’d been back in Loudoun two years and still she hadn’t done what she’d come here to do. She was still hiding, still watching, still wishing …

Still searching for the reason her life had been destroyed. Admitting she couldn’t do it by herself hadn’t been easy. The thought of going to Jazz, or even Jessie’s husband, a former FBI agent, for help, never failed to send panic tearing through her.

She had no idea if these men, adults now, hardened and obviously far stronger than they had been when she’d actually known them, could still be trusted.

Their ties to the Kin had been strong, and those ties were apparent now, but they’d changed. She just couldn’t be certain how.

Jazz chose that moment to stop, laughing at something one of his friends called out to him, distracting her from her thoughts. He was amused, cheerful, and seemed to be as immersed in having fun as everyone else. But there was a tension in his shoulders, a tightness she’d glimpsed in the curve of his lips earlier.

He wasn’t having fun.

As she watched his head turned, his gaze raking along the crowd and the trees that bordered the clearing as though searching for someone, or something. He didn’t look long enough for her to determine who he was searching for, before returning his attention to the conversation. Of course, he knew she was watching him, she’d figured that out months before. Jazz was too well trained by the Kin not to be aware of it. And though she had been trained as well, she hadn’t spent nearly as much time being tutored as he had in the past.

The instincts he’d learned to use in the mountains were so well honed now that there was no way to watch him with anything other than lust and he not be well aware of it. Following him without him knowing it would be all but impossible, even for someone well versed in doing so. She was much better at running than hunting though. The prey rather than the predator.

Admitting she knew how to be no more than the prey was enough to piss her off, too. So much so that the decision to go to Jazz for help still had the power to rake her pride. The damned alley cat.

He was a wild man. He always had been. So tall and muscular and so savagely handsome, like some hero in those crazy romance books. He made a woman feel far too feminine and hungry inside. Her legs weakened, her stomach did all those jumpy acrobatics, and her mouth went dry while another part of her part became so damp and heated it was embarrassing.

Kenni was no different from the throng of lovers he’d had over the years when it came to her fascination with him. He was playful, teasing, seductive. And she was as drawn to him now as she had been that summer. Just as drawn to him as every other woman in his vicinity it seemed. And no woman had a chance at holding his attention, let alone stealing his heart.

No one woman lasted long in his bed, but none left it with a broken heart. Regretful, yes, but they all loved Jazz. He was their best friend and their secret crush, their confidant and their greatest sexual fantasy.

She would never be able to leave his bed and his life without a broken heart, Kenni knew. If she ever became weak enough to allow him to seduce her, then walking away without the agony ripping her apart would be impossible.

Then she’d just have to kill him.

And all that was moot if she didn’t first finish what began ten years ago.

She wasn’t going to do that until she could prove to herself that he wouldn’t betray her. She had little reason to trust the Kin. But then, it was impossible to trust a group that had been trying to kill her for ten years.

As Jazz disappeared into Slade’s RV moments later she stepped from the tree line and began picking her way along the darkened edge of the lake, around the parked RVs, and back toward the parking lot.

Long minutes later, as she slid around the white-and-tan RV belonging to Slade and Jessie Colter, the sound of cartoons and low laughter had her chest clenching in envy.

Jessie Colter had befriended her when she’d first arrived in Loudoun as the new kindergarten teacher, Annie Mayes. Had it not been for Jessie, no doubt she wouldn’t have really made friends. The other woman had insisted Kenni go to dinner with her after school, or have lunch with her occasionally on the weekends.

When Jessie had married her lost love, Slade Colter, the other woman had become an instant mother to Slade’s little boy, Cody. That child was a precocious, sweet-natured little handful. Innocent of face, sincere of speech, and as charming as any six-year-old male could be. He stole hearts right and left.

She did smile then. Just a bit of a curve of her lips before it was quickly pulled back.

“Now, was that a smile on our little schoolteacher’s lips?”

The voice, as dark as the night, as sexy as the man himself, and as dangerous as any male ever born, drew her to a sudden and complete stop as she passed the corner of the Colter RV.

Dammit. Not tonight. Not now. Resisting him now, when she was so weak, would be so much harder.

Jazz had pulled his own RV about five feet past the bumper of his friends’ vehicle at a slight angle that protected the back of Slade and Jessie’s home on wheels. It was from there that he stepped, the bottle of beer held loosely in one hand.

“Jazz…” She stepped back, wondering if it was too late to run.

“Still running scared?” The amusement in his voice pricked her at her pride more now than it usually did.

“Still determined to seduce someone who’s not interested?” she sniffed disdainfully.

God help her. She’d known he was suspicious, but she hadn’t expected him to actually surprise her quite this way.

His brows lowered.

Leaning against the side of his RV, he watched her with that low, brooding frown while he scratched at his chest negligently.

“Not interested, huh?” His lips curved into a grin that didn’t quite reach those brilliant-blue eyes, though a hint of bitterness might have gleamed there. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, sweetheart?”

Straight to his face? Well, it wasn’t easy, but of course she would.

“What reason would I have to lie to you, Jazz?”

She could think of a page full of reasons.

“Because you think you can get away with it.” He sighed his own answer.

She could get away with it, for a few minutes at least. It wouldn’t be easy, but she’d manage it if she had to. No doubt she was going to have to if his expression was anything to go by.

“Personally, I think you’re a little paranoid,” she informed him with an air of pity. “Such a shame, too. Jessie seems rather certain you’re a very intelligent man. Paranoia could be quite detrimental to that.”

He’d always been fun to play with, too. That hadn’t changed, he still enjoyed a few word games as well as his more sexual pastimes.

“Jessie likes to fuck with your head, baby,” he chuckled, the low, rough sound far too sexy.

“Or perhaps you’re still in denial. That’s never a good thing, Jazz,” she assured him, enjoying the exchange far too much. “Talk to Jessie. She’ll explain it all to you.”

Or actually manage to screw his head up completely, she thought, amused. Jessie had learned how to play those games as well.

He sniffed at the advice, never taking his eyes off her. He wasn’t stripping her with his eyes, he was warming her with them. But Jazz had a way of doing that, of making a woman feel like she was the only female on the face of the earth. He charmed and seduced and led them along a path of sultry kisses and dominating caresses—and at the end of that path they were left with the memory of something they would never know again. He’d seduced them so well that getting angry at him was impossible.

Kenni begged to claim otherwise. She was furious with him over every former lover he’d ever had. She wanted to claw their eyes out, then claw his out for being such a damned Romeo.

“You’re a pretty little thing aren’t you?” The statement had her heart nearly stopping before it began racing in her chest with a speed that made it difficult to breathe properly.

“Th … thank you.” Damn him, now he was making her stutter? Just because he thought she was pretty? And why had he waited two years to say that?

His head tilted to the side, his sapphire-blue eyes watching her for another silent moment. Sometimes she wondered what he saw and what he thought when he did that. He had a tendency to watch her as though she were some puzzle he needed to put together. If that was the case then she was in trouble. Once Jazz decided to figure something or someone out, he was just as tenacious as the most stubborn men she’d ever met.

Well, probably more.

When he looked at her like that he did things to her that no other man had even come close to doing. She tingled and could feel herself flushing. Her knees went weak. The tingles raced over her body, detoured to the peaks of her breasts, and then went decidedly south with a surge of energy that had her shifting on her feet to dislodge the ache.

Sweet merciful heaven. This was just wrong. This was not why she was here, and she didn’t have time for the distraction. She couldn’t let him draw her in yet, not until she was certain where his loyalties lay.

“I should go…”

“Something about you just makes me hard as hell.” He sighed, causing a laugh of pure disbelief to slip past her lips.

Well, he was rather blunt tonight. She normally steered clear of him, so she’d never really seen him like this. Heard of it, but hadn’t seen it. It frankly terrified her. If he kept this up, she might have to let him seduce her and that would simply defeat the purpose.

“Something about me, huh?” She lifted a brow at the phrasing, crossed her arms beneath her breasts, hoped she was hiding her hardened nipples, and tried for a doubtful expression as she watched him. “Perhaps it’s because I’m female.”

He seemed to pause for a moment. Maybe he was thinking about the accusation. It wasn’t possible to deny it, that was for damned sure.

“Well, I am known for my love of females.” He nodded seriously before lifting the beer for another drink.

“Yes, Jazz, you are known for your love of females.” Damned alley cat. “Healer of broken hearts, seducer of weeping divorcées, and all-around charming rogue,” she pointed out. “Never been married and not so much as a chip taken from your heart. Lucky man.” The mockery wasn’t nearly as subtle as she was trying for.

He glanced down. Kenni stilled at the flash of dark emotion that swept across his face for just a moment as he stared at the bottle in his hand.

He’d been in love? Oh, that wasn’t fair. Damn him, she’d never had a chance to give herself to the man she loved as a young woman, no chance to tell him how much she’d ached for him or to see if she could make this far-too-dangerous man fall in love with her. And he’d dared to fall in love while she was gone.

Bastard.

Double bastard.

“Yeah, lucky man.” But he didn’t sound as though he agreed with her. “What about you? Ever been married? In love?”

“I’m twenty-six years old, Jazz, what do you think?” She would be twenty-seven soon, but she couldn’t tell him that. She was tired, lonely, starving for his touch in ways she hadn’t in all the years before coming home, and certain that if she allowed herself to taste the pleasure he could give her, he wouldn’t just break her heart. No, Jazz wouldn’t do anything by half measures. He’d shatter her soul into a million pieces.

She hadn’t had a chance to fall in love because she compared every damned man she met with Jazz Lancing. She was terribly afraid what she’d thought was a crush when she was seventeen went far deeper and ruined her for any other man.

He chose that moment to set the now empty beer bottle on the front bumper of his RV and stepped farther into the shadows, closer to her.

She should leave, right now. Kenni knew she should leave. She should run from him so fast and hard that she left dust in her wake. Instead she stood there like some foolish twit too stupid to get out of the path of danger.

She had so thought she had better control of herself than this.

“Are you frightened of me, darlin’?”

Oh God, he was so close.

Kenni stared up at him, his gaze holding hers as his fingers settled at her hip, drawing her slowly closer until she was flush against his much larger body.

“Frightened of you? No, Jazz, I’m not frightened of you.” Fear was the last thing she felt, but what she did feel was more dangerous than fear.

It was hunger. It was the overpowering need for touch. For his touch.

His hold tightened further on her as his head lowered, his lips brushing over her jaw.

Instantly sensation shot across her flesh. Like fingers of incredible pleasure sinking beneath her skin to nerve endings she’d never known could be so sensitive. The slightest brush of those well-molded, sensual male lips had her lashes fluttering in helpless, hopeless need.

Helpless. She couldn’t allow herself to be helpless. Helpless meant dying. And she wasn’t ready to die.

“What is with this need of yours to seduce every single female you come in contact with?” she questioned him desperately. “Find another playmate, Jazz. I’m unavailable.” It nearly killed her to step back and place several feet between them.

“You’re always running away,” he drawled, the slight curve of a grin at the corner of his lips. “Keep doing that, you’ll hurt my feelings something awful.”

Really?

She simply couldn’t believe that the statement, no matter how teasing, had actually fallen from his lips. There was a hint of frustration there as well. She could see it in the narrowing of his gaze, the way the muscles ticked sexily at the side of his jaw.

“Poor baby.” The patently false sympathy she offered him wasn’t helping if his glare was any indication. “I’m sure you can find someone to soothe your poor hurt feelings. I hear you could actually start your own harem.”

Oversexed ass!

He was so damned powerful, her fascination for him far too strong—yet she had to deny herself. Where was the fairness in that?

“There’s an opening if you’d like to apply for a position,” he offered teasingly. “Tryouts could start now if you like?”

Kenni could sense far more than just amusement and irritation now. There was something deeper in his gaze. Darker. Something that made those tingles start playing through her body again.

She really needed to get the hell away from him.

“You’re obviously far drunker than I suspected to actually try that one,” she accused him as her fingers dug against her palms to keep from smacking the daylights out of his smug face.

“Or not drunk enough,” he grunted, watching her closely now. “Hell, I should have known better, right? You have to be the most irritable woman I’ve come across in years.”

Irritable?

Kenni glared back at him, her ire beginning to heat to anger at the accusation. “If I’m irritable then it’s because you can’t help being an ass. Besides, no one’s holding a gun to your head and forcing you to make such idiotic offers.”

“Did I say you were irritable?” he questioned. “I’m sorry, I meant irritating. You’re damned irritating.”

“Because I won’t sleep with you?” Disbelief whipped through her senses like a storm. This man was completely unreal. “What? No one’s ever turned you down before, Jazz?”

The smug, too-knowing expression on his face made her teeth grit.

“Nope, not till you,” he shot back, the growl in his voice matching the irritated look he shot her.

“Then you’re far overdue for the experience, aren’t you?” Kenni kept her voice sweet as she stepped back to the path leading to the parking lot, and escape. “Rejection can ultimately be a wonderful character builder, I hear.”

The way he looked at her then sent a rush of warmth spreading through her body. The reaction was surprising. As angry as she was, her body shouldn’t be reacting to him with such sexual warmth. Then again, Jazz had a way of making a woman just want to melt with a look. The lowered lashes, so thick and long they should be illegal on a man. The sexy smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips and the wicked sensuality that filled his expression were simply, almost, irresistible.

“Then again, I haven’t actually been rejected by you, have I?” he pointed out before she could escape, his tone resonating with complete, sensual confidence.

That was Jazz, he couldn’t help himself, she decided. For all his confidence and arrogant certainty in himself, he was also right. She had yet to truly reject him. She couldn’t seem to make herself do it.

“If that’s what you have to convince yourself of, then you go right ahead.” She had to force the amusement into her voice as she forced the hunger out of it. “I won’t argue with you. Besides, it’s time I head home.”

She turned her back on him.

She should have known better. The second she actually did it she remembered what a bad idea it could be.

Kenni had barely taken that first step when she found herself hauled around, lifted to her tiptoes, and her back pressed against the side of Jazz’s RV.

Neon-blue eyes snared hers, refusing to allow her to escape his gaze or his hold.

Perhaps bad idea was the wrong description. Not a good idea, but definitely a move that showed her exactly why fighting Jazz was going to be so damned hard now.

Her fingers curled against his shoulders, nails pressing into the dark material of his T-shirt as he gripped her rear with both hands, lifted her, and pushed one hard thigh between hers.

Kenni’s breath caught. Oh God, that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right that she get weak like this, that her flesh betrayed her common sense and gloried in his touch. Need surged through her with catastrophic results. The feel of him, hard, aroused, pressing into tender flesh far too sensitive and aching for touch, nearly destroyed any hope she had of resistance. Let alone control.

“You’re not rejecting me, darlin’,” he stated, his voice deeper, darker than ever. “Say it now. Tell me you don’t want me.”

He was so warm, so powerful. For just a moment she wanted to relax against him, to allow that heat to just sink inside her and ease the awful chill that filled her, kept her cold no matter the heat surrounding her.

She had to get away from him before he made it impossible for her to escape the need she could feel building. Because he made her feel safe, heated, and oh so hungry for his touch.

“Why do you keep running, Annie? You want me. I can see it, feel it. You want me until you hurt for it. Almost as bad as I hurt for it.”

Annie.

He had to call her Annie. He just had to remind her of who she wasn’t, and in doing so emphasize that she couldn’t allow anyone to know who she was.

“Enough…”

“Jazz, let the little teacher go for a minute so we can talk.”

Kenni froze, the shock of the voice behind her sending fear racing through her. She hadn’t even known anyone was there. For the first time in years her senses had betrayed her at a time when it was most important. With someone far more dangerous to her than any other could hope to be.

“Let me go.” Hissing at his ear, Kenni pushed demandingly at Jazz’s shoulders. “Dammit, I knew not to let you catch me in the dark.”

He grunted at that, but lowered her to her feet and slowly released her, allowing her to step away from him.

She glimpsed the shadow of a man hidden within the dark copse of trees that grew to the water’s edge. And she had to walk past him. Dammit, her luck was starting to suck. It was completely ridiculous that Jazz could affect her to this extent. That he could captivate her senses to the point that she was completely unaware this man had slipped up behind them.

“I’m going home,” she muttered. “Remind me to stay away from lake parties in the future.”

Neither man answered, though she could feel Jazz’s eyes on her as she stomped past the hulking intruder, following the path to the well-lit parking area where she’d left her small tan sedan.

Within seconds the motor was humming. She backed quickly from her parking spot and headed for the exit to the main road.

She was going to have to stay away from Jazz for a long time. Long enough to rebuild her defenses and find a way to make certain this never, ever happened again.

She was in Loudoun to finish a game that had begun ten years before. One so deadly, so filled with evil purpose that it had destroyed everything she cared for. She was safe nowhere. No one was safe caring for her, or attempting to protect her. And now there was no way in hell she could actually be honest with Jazz. How could she catch a killer if all she could think about was touching Jazz, and how he would touch her?

Maybe it was better that way. She was so completely alone that her enemies had no one to use against her, or take from her. She had to be alone to face the enemy from a position of strength, she reminded herself. Loved ones were a weakness. Caring was a weakness. And Kenni had already learned the punishment for caring far more than she could bear.

Another lesson just might destroy her.

Now she had to figure out how to complete what she hadn’t been able to complete in two years.

Find a killer.

At this rate, she might manage that task before she was a senior citizen. She doubted it, though …