Unleashed. Lori Borrill

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      Jessie gasped, not knowing whether to spit or cry. Ever since she rolled out of this man’s bed twelve hours ago her life had gone from top of the hill to bottomless hell, and it seemed to be sinking farther. It was bad enough she was about to lose everything she’d worked hard for over the last year, now she was being accused of a crime?

      Then a dark sense of familiarity washed through her, shoving her from a state of shock into the reality of the situation.

      Oh, she’d been here before. She’d stood right in front of the law and had the same accusations thrown at her almost two years ago. Back then, she’d been ignorant and stupid, her innocence working against her and costing her everything she had.

      She was smarter now.

      This whole scene had Wade Griggs written all over it, and having charted these waters before, she knew exactly which mistakes she would not repeat.

      Crossing her arms over her chest, she threw her shoulders back and stood firm. “If you’re accusing me of a crime, I demand to see a lawyer.”

      “Yeah,” Georgia echoed, but their partner, Swan, didn’t seem to be thrilled with the idea of a fight.

      She stepped out from the main counter, rushing over to the three of them while a dozen bangle bracelets sounded like wind chimes around her wrists. Flashing a forced and nervous smile, she cocked her head toward a small group of customers perusing Georgia’s scarves.

      “Excuse me,” Swan said in her most pleasant and patronizing tone. “This sounds like a conversation that needs to be taken in the back.” Then lowering her voice to below a whisper, she added, “Our customers are getting curious.”

      Rick placed a hand on Jessie’s arm and replied, “I have a better idea. We’ll take this down to the station.”

      Every part of Jessie wanted to kick him in the shins and scream bloody murder. This was just like last time. Accuse first, ask questions later. But in this case, it was worse. This time, she’d opened a soft spot for her accuser. She’d shared a blissful and passionate evening with a man she’d thought was gentle and kind.

      Sure, they hadn’t gone through old scrapbooks and swapped schoolyard memories, but they’d connected on a level more intuitive than that. Maybe it had only been a one-night stand, but the fact that her lover could be so warm and intimate one minute then turn on her the next stung deep and hard, and the fighter in her wanted to open a wound in return.

      But Swan was right. Even the look in Georgia’s eyes echoed that. This was their business, the livelihood that supported them all, and creating a scene in the middle of it wouldn’t do anyone any good. Jessie had enough troubles. She didn’t need to add five angry partners wanting to throw her out of the co-op. So swallowing her hurt and pride, she jerked her hand from his grasp and stepped toward the counter where she’d left her purse.

      “Of course,” she said, using a haughty tone that came out sounding like Miss Hathaway from the Beverly Hillbillies. Raising her voice so the customers could hear clearly, she added, “I’m sure Mr. Marshall and I can straighten out this matter over coffee.”

      Grabbing the orange Beane Bag that she only now remembered still held her green lacy bra from the night before, she took clipped steps to the double glass doors. Holding her head high and her mouth shut, they’d moved down the street well past the eyes and ears of Hidden Gems.

      Then she turned on her heels and jabbed a finger into his chest. “If you ever come into my place of business and embarrass me like that again, I promise you’ll rue the day you met me.”

      He clasped her forearm and steered her across the street. “I already do.”

      Now that was just cruel, and a mix of hurt, frustration and anger erupted in a sting of tears at the backs of her eyes. Was she a magnet for jerks? Back home, she’d blamed youth and ignorance for the mistakes she’d made. That and the fact that her stepbrothers usually chased the good guys away. But she was in California now, away from the influence of her family and wiser than her years. So why was it the first man she’d opened herself up to could be as bad as all the rest?

      “Then I’ll find a way to make it worse,” she muttered, part in frustration, part in vengeance. How many more knocks could she take today before she finally split in two?

      “You do that,” he said. “But in the meantime, you’re going to tell me where the hell I can find my car.”

      “I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “We’ll see about that.”

      He led her up to a silver sedan then stopped at the passenger side door. She noted it wasn’t a typical squad car. There were no lights, no caged backseat with the interior door handles missing and bulletproof glass to protect the driver from hardened criminals like herself who might come at them with an emery board.

      Jerking her arm from his grasp, she stepped close to his chest, trying to ignore that familiar rugged scent that had her hot and bothered the night before. Her forehead just reached the tip of his chin and the memory of her lips closing over that smoothly shaven throat left her mouth dry.

      She stiffened her bottom lip and spat out, “Aren’t you going to cuff me?”

      The slight quirk of his brow said more than he’d ever admit. Maybe he wasn’t completely immune to the night they’d shared. But as quickly as it flashed by, the set jaw returned and the stony cop was back.

      “Do I need to?” he asked.

      She tried not to be sarcastic and sour, her smarter side recognizing that honey went a lot further than spite.

      The smarter side lost. She was too mad.

      “According to you? Probably. You seem to think I’m capable of all kinds of heinous acts.”

      He opened the door and offered a hand. “I’ll take my chances.”

      She slapped it off and climbed into the passenger seat, wincing when he slammed the door and rounded the car to take the seat next to her.

      This was officially her second escorted trip downtown in as many years. Her first ride had been to the Colbrook County jail and was the opening scene to a nightmare that became twelve of the most rotten months of her life.

      Would this trip end up any better?

      Glancing over at the ice block of a man sitting next to her, she couldn’t help but fear the worst.

      Chapter Five

      RICK PULLED AWAY from the curb and headed south on Powell toward his office at the Hall of Justice. There was an extra edge to his already agitated state thanks to his unexpected reaction to seeing Jessie again. He thought he’d worked up enough fury over what had happened to erase all the lusty remnants of the night they’d shared. But the moment he saw her standing there cute and casual, those strawberry curls haphazardly framing her face and those wet, rosy lips curved in a smile, every second of their sexual encounter sped through his mind on a course straight for his cock.