Double Play: Ambushed! / High-Caliber Cowboy

“I know this must be hard on you,” she said. “I’m sorry I don’t remember…us.”

He finished taking the rest of her prints before he looked up again. “Here, you can clean the ink off with this,” he said, handing her a towelette.

“Thank you.” She scrubbed at the ink, still watching him out of the corner of her eye. When she’d asked about their relationship, he’d grown quiet, almost pensive. There was something he didn’t want to tell her.

“I’ll send these in,” he said, getting up, turning his back to her.

“I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry about?” he asked over his shoulder as if surprised.

“All these questions. But I don’t know much about Jasmine. Just what I’ve read in the papers….” She pretended to hesitate. “And there are so many questions that only you can answer.”

He took a breath and let it out slowly as he finished taking care of the prints. “What do you want to know?”

She shrugged. “Anything you can tell me. How did you meet?”

He took his chair behind his desk, giving her his full attention. “I was teaching a class in criminology at Montana State University in Bozeman. We ran into each other in the hall.” He shrugged. “The next day you were waiting for me outside my classroom.”

Jasmine hadn’t been a shrinking violet, had she?

“How long did we…you date?”

“Not long. The engagement was kind of…sudden.” He smiled a little as if embarrassed and met her eyes. “I’d never met anyone like…you.”

And she’d thought he was a cautious man. Probably was. Except when it came to women. Or at least one woman. She felt a prick of jealousy and wondered what kind of lover he’d been. And Jasmine?

Cash was smiling. “You had another question?”

She really had to watch herself. He seemed to be reading every expression. “I was wondering about…our relationship, that is, yours and Jasmine’s.”

He laughed. It was a wonderful sound. “You want to know if we were…intimate?”

The word was so old-fashioned. Like Cash. She suspected he followed some Code of the West. “It’s just if I’m going to stay with you…” She wasn’t really blushing, was she?

“Are you worried about your virtue?” he asked.

There was an edge to his voice that surprised her. Had her question upset him because it was so personal? Or was it something to do with Jasmine?

“I know it’s none of my business,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have—”

“We never slept together.”

She tried not to look surprised by that—or the flash of anger she’d seen in his expression. Obviously their not sleeping together hadn’t been his idea.

“Oh” was all she could think to say. She was no authority on relationships, since she never stayed long enough in one place to have anything long-term. And her idea of a short-term relationship was a dinner or a movie date. At almost thirty, she had never even been in love.

But any woman who wouldn’t want to go to bed with Cash McCall needed her head examined. Her gaze fell on his hands, and desire stirred within at just the thought of those hands on bare skin.

“Her loss,” she added ruefully and then could have bit her tongue.

He cocked his head at her as if taken aback by her comment. Not half as much as she was. The idea was to distract the audience during a trick—not shoot yourself in the foot.

An awkward silence fell between them, which she didn’t dare try to fill. Who knew what she’d say?

“We should see about getting you to the house. I thought you could drive your car and follow me. It’s only two blocks. We can put your car in my garage.”

She glanced toward the open back door of the office. She could smell the sweet scent of pine coming from the growing darkness. “You’re sure it won’t be an imposition?”

“Having second thoughts?” He smiled but this time it didn’t reach his eyes.

He’s angry at Jasmine and he thinks I’m her. “Are you sure you’re all right with this?” She wasn’t sure she was.

His gaze flickered as if he hadn’t expected any concern from her—and it touched him. “Don’t worry about me. I can’t promise that I can keep you a secret for long. But I will try until we get the fingerprint results.”

“Would you mind calling me Molly?”

He nodded slowly.

“It’s just that…”

“You don’t have to explain,” he said. “You’re still not comfortable with the idea of being Jasmine.”

She nodded. And it wasn’t something she intended to get comfortable with. All she’d done was buy herself a little time. “Thank you. For everything. I appreciate you letting me stay at your house.”

“Have you had dinner yet?”

She shook her head.

“I haven’t been to the grocery store but I do have some leftover pot roast with vegetables from my garden.”

She laughed. The man had a garden and he cooked. Unbelievable. “I love pot roast,” she said, relaxing a little. There was nothing to worry about. He didn’t suspect anything. She had to quit questioning her luck. Obviously, it had changed for the better.

But when she looked at him, he was frowning. “What is it?” she asked, realizing that she’d done something wrong.

He shook his head, quickly replacing the frown with a smile as if she’d caught him. “Nothing. It’s just your…laugh. I’d forgotten…how much I’ve missed it.”

She felt her stomach churn, but she forced herself to smile. Fear reverberated through her.

He had just lied to her.

And a few moments ago she would have bet anything that he wasn’t the lying type.

Maybe she was wrong about him. Maybe she hadn’t fooled him. With a shudder, she realized that she’d talked her way into staying at his house, alone with him, her car hidden in his garage. And he was the only person in town who even knew she existed.

Suddenly, that nagging feeling—that she would regret this—was back again, stronger than ever.

“Ready?” he asked from the doorway.