It was as if a lightbulb suddenly went off in Jamie's head. "So that's why you changed your mind about bringing me along," she said, remembering Max's change of heart had come after Muffin had told them about Rawlins's history with women.
Max hesitated. "I knew you would try to think of a way to play him, that you would place yourself right in the line of fire, so to speak. And I was right. You showed up in an outfit that was designed to give a man a ..." He paused. "You get my point."
"Uh, yeah."
"All I'm asking is that you practice a great deal of caution. It's OK to dangle a carrot in front of Rawlins, but it's not OK to take unnecessary chances. When you visit him, Dave and I need to be close by."
"How?"
"Let us worry about that."
"Just don't blow my cover, OK? I spent a lot of money on this wig."
"Wait a minute, Jamie. I don't care if we all blow our covers if Rawlins gets crazy with you. If he tries to use force, Dave and I are going to be on him. That's why you have to agree to work with us as a team. I'm not going to back off on this one, Swifty. You have to agree to that up front."
She sighed. "OK, Max."
"There are ways you might be able to get away without blowing our cover. You can try those first."
"What are they?"
"Having a husband in the wings is one of them. You can tell Harlan any number of things if it looks like the situation is getting out of hand. Tell him your husband is insanely jealous, that you suspect you're being followed. Tell him whatever the hell you have to in order to protect yourself. You could suddenly start feeling guilty. Whatever it takes to stay safe. But if it doesn't work, you scream, you run, you do what you have to do to protect yourself. Dave and I will be close by."
Jamie knew Max was right. "OK," she said. "Husband and wife. We'll need wedding rings."
"I'll take care of it." He. suddenly smiled. "So, what do you say? Think we can work together?"
"That depends. Would you promise not to try to disarm any more bombs in my presence?"
"If you'll promise not to be so disagreeable."
"I am not disagreeable."
"And we need to discuss the dog."
They both looked at Fleas, who was napping near Jamie's feet. "He stays," she said. "It's a package deal."
Max didn't look happy.
"I'll take care of him. I've already bought everything he needs."
Max studied the lanky bloodhound. "What happened to his hair?"
"Fleas was attacked by a raccoon."
"You're going to allow an animal named Fleas to sleep under the same roof with us?"
"He doesn't have fleas. It's his name. Obviously somebody thought it was funny. Besides, we need a good watchdog."
"And that would be him?"
"Of course. He's very alert when he isn't sleeping. I think he's already attached to me. I can't even take a shower without him following me into the bathroom."
"Oh, now you've done it," Max said. "You've gone and turned me on." He grinned.
"Trust me, you're perfectly capable of doing it to yourself." Jamie glanced around. "Is there anything to eat in this place? I'm starving."
"I can scramble some eggs. I'm great with scrambled eggs." Max got up.
"Sounds good to me," Jamie replied, jumping to her feet as well. "I need to grab Fleas's food from the truck."
"I'll go with you. We can grab the rest of your things while we're at it."
"I don't have much. I left my suitcase in your car."
"I've already brought it in."
"Where is your car, by the way?" Jamie asked, standing in the doorway, looking across the yard.
"In the garage. Remind me to give you the security code for the garage and the cabin before we go to bed."
Jamie opened the door to her truck and reached behind the seat for the bags she'd stuffed behind it. One held her new underwear and toiletry items, the other her dirty clothes, and a separate bag held Fleas's dry dog food and bowls. She made a note to buy more slut-wear.
"By the way, how is Muffin?" she asked once they started back toward the cabin. As odd as it sounded even to her, she had missed Max's computer.
Max opened the door and waited for Jamie to enter. "She's not very happy with me at the moment, thanks to you."
"What did I do?"
"You refused to get back in my car. You just took off on us." Max closed the door after them and locked it, then punched a series of numbers on an alarm panel. "Naturally Muffin missed you and was worried."
Jamie would not have thought Muffin capable of feeling emotions had she not witnessed it for herself. Muffin also had attitude. She did not mind telling Max where he could get off. Jamie had liked her right away. And to think, she had doubted Max the first time he'd told her about his computer; in fact, she had thought him crazy. Hell, she had doubted her own sanity in her earlier conversations with Muffin. Now, as strange as it sounded, Muffin felt like an old friend.
"And you weren't worried about me that I took off?" Jamie asked.
Max shrugged. "I knew you could handle yourself."
They stood there for a moment, simply looking at each other. Jamie studied the handsome olive-skinned face, gazing into those dark eyes that seemed as if they had been created to turn a woman's stomach to mush. She had run her fingers through his hair. She had kissed those delicious lips, tasted him, run her fingers along the strong stubborn jaw.
She knew he was attracted to her, he'd said it plenty of times, and she supposed he cared about her to an extent, but neither of them was clear about their feelings after only two weeks of knowing each other.
Not that it had been an ordinary two weeks, she reminded herself, and she had been engaged to another man during that time. Still, they had come mighty close to having sex one night—and it had been a night Jamie would never forget. Max had never mentioned it, but Jamie knew she, for one, was still thinking about it.
Now, as he gazed back at her, Jamie wished she knew what he was thinking. Max was not one who shared his thoughts easily. Sure, he'd made it plain more than once that he would have enjoyed a rumble beneath the sheets, but where his feelings were concerned he was about as close-mouthed as they came.
"Hey, you're awfully quiet," Max said. "Is something wrong?"
Jamie gave an inward sigh. By meeting up with Max she had once again placed her heart in a precarious position. "I'm just tired. Maybe you could show me where I'm sleeping."
"Right this way."
She followed him down a short hall. He paused at the door, reached inside, and flipped on the light, then motioned her into the room as he set her bags down. "The bathroom is right across the hall. While you get situated, I'll start the eggs."
"Thanks."
Jamie stepped into the bedroom and sat on the old four-poster bed, testing the mattress. Max was right; it was stuffed with feathers. She could do some serious sleeping on this bed. A cool breeze rustled the curtains and fell softly on her skin. Jamie suddenly felt more relaxed than she had in days.
She glanced at the oak dresser against the wall and frowned at the woman in the mirror. She pulled off the wig, unpinned her blonde hair, and finger-combed it. Much better, she thought. Now she only had to scrape off an inch-thick layer of makeup.
Jamie could hear Max cracking the eggs into a bowl in the kitchen as she crossed the hall to the bathroom. She grinned at the old claw-foot bathtub and imagined herself sitting inside it with bubbles up to her ears. A metal hoop had been positioned over the tub, hanging from it a floral shower curtain. A porcelain sink was perched on one wall; someone had attached a skirt to it that matched both the shower and the window curtain. A wicker basket beside the tab was stuffed with fluffy bath towels.
Max was in the process of chopping green peppers on an old-fashioned butcher block when Jamie entered the kitchen for her suitcase. "I thought you were just going to scramble a few eggs," she said, peering over his shoulder. "I should help."
He turned and held hi
s hands out, blocking her. "Actually, I don't permit anyone in the kitchen when I'm preparing my secret recipe."
"Why is it a secret?"
"Because of all the special ingredients that go into it. Why don't you just rest for a few minutes?"
Jamie noticed Fleas standing beside Max as though waiting for something. "Have you been feeding my dog?"
"I gave him a little cheese. Dogs like cheese."
"He should be eating real dog food." Jamie pulled his food and dog dishes from a bag.
"I'll feed him," Max said. "Just go back to what you were doing. Oh, I wrote down the alarm code. It's on the table."
"OK, I'll get out of your way, but don't give Fleas any more cheese. He'll get fat."
Jamie grabbed her suitcase and returned to her room. Inside she found her favorite cutoff jeans. She stepped out of her short skirt and high heels and pulled them on. She unpacked her bag, put her newly purchased shampoo, toothbrush, and toothpaste inside the bathroom cabinet, and hurried back into the kitchen, where she found Max, scooping eggs onto plates.
"That looks wonderful," she said, noting that Max had added ham, onions, and cheese to the eggs. He'd even made toast. Jamie grabbed napkins and flatware and went about setting the table as Max poured orange juice.
"This is good," Jamie said after tasting her food.
"My cousin Nick taught me how to run a newspaper; his wife Billie taught me how to cook." Max looked up from his food. "I've always wanted to take a gourmet cooking class."
"Why haven't you?"
"My schedule doesn't really permit it."
"Who takes care of your horse farm in Virginia while you're away?"
"I have a guy who looks after things. He's been with me for years now."
"Don't you miss being home?"
"Yeah. I'll probably go back for a while once I'm done here."
"Isn't Holt Industries based there?"
"Uh-huh. I have offices in other locations, but the home office is in Loudoun County, Virginia."
"And what do you do in those offices?"
Max regarded her. "Mostly technological research, but I've expanded over the years. We're doing some biomedical research, and I'm putting out bids soon to build a lab to study viruses."
"Isn't that already being done?"
"Not fast enough."
"You're amazing," Jamie said.
"Yeah?"
"You've got your fingers in everything."
"Keeps boredom at bay."
"But you could afford to retire anytime you like."
"What would I do, Jamie?"
She laughed. "With your money? Any damn thing you wanted. You could travel the world."
"I already have. Several times."
"Isn't there anything you haven't done?"
Max sat back in his chair and looked thoughtful. "Until today I'd never ridden in a pickup truck with a redhead and a hound dog."
"Seriously, Max."
"If you could retire tomorrow, would you?"
Jamie hesitated. "I'd probably still want to write a few articles. It's sort of in my blood."
"You'll never stop working, Jamie. You're too much like me. When you do what you love, it never feels like work. That doesn't mean I don't like to take off and play. I'm big on vacations. But I need direction. A reason for being."
"Your marriage to Bunny didn't provide that?" She tried to hide her smile.
Max scowled. "That was not her real name. And no, the marriage was all wrong from the start."
"Why'd you marry her?"
"Because I was dumb and infatuated. End of story."
"Do you wish you'd had children with her?"
"Why are you asking these questions? You're beginning to sound like Muffin."
"I was merely trying to carry on polite conversation, Max. I certainly didn't mean to intrude."
"I don't question you about your love life." He bit off a piece of toast and chewed. "She was not an airhead. People just assumed she was because of the way she looked."
"The way she looked?"
"Well, hell, Jamie, the woman was ..." Max paused.
"Gorgeous," Jamie said.
"Yeah, and she had this—"
"Great body," Jamie interrupted.
"Uh-huh."
Jamie dropped her fork, and it clattered loudly. "Well, now isn't that special."
"I thought so in the beginning."
Jamie stood and picked up her plate.
"What are you doing?" Max asked. "You haven't finished eating."
"I'm not hungry."
"You were starving a few minutes ago."
Jamie raked her eggs into Fleas's bowl, and the dog dived on it. "I'm really very tired."
Max chuckled. "You mean you're really very jealous."
Jamie cut her eyes at him. "I am not jealous. I just don't want to talk about your ex-wife's body."
"Hey, you're the one who brought it up."
Fleas finished eating and gazed at Max's plate.
Max stood. "You're saying you've never noticed a man's body?"
"I notice a man's eyes first."
"Uh-huh."
"But I've dated some very fit men, Max."
"You want to see fit?" Max suddenly lifted his shirt, exposing a flat, hair-roughened stomach. "Feel that."
Jamie decided her first mistake was looking. Oh God. He had one of those hard washboard stomachs that she'd only heard women talk about. And that hair, the way it fanned out so nicely across his stomach, the way it whorled around his navel and— She dropped her gaze, found herself suddenly staring at his zipper. Oh God, oh God, oh God. It didn't help that his unshaved jaw made him even more appealing.
Max grabbed Jamie's wrist and pressed her hand against his abdomen.
Skin touched skin.
"It's hard as a rock," he said proudly. "Not an ounce of flab anywhere."
Jamie swallowed. Felt like a giant turnip was trying to make its way down her windpipe. Felt like something had cut off her breath and she was going to have to use the Heimlich maneuver on herself in order to get air.
She jerked her hand free. "Would you cut that out!"
"I was trying to make a point." Max pulled his shirt down, grabbed his plate, and raked his food into Fleas's bowl. The dog scrambled toward it.
"He's not supposed to be eating that," Jamie said.
"You fed him yours."
"I decided to give him a little treat. I don't want him to get used to eating people food on account it isn't good for him. I'm going to bed. Come on, Fleas, let's go."
"You're letting him sleep in your room? Man, that's one lucky dog."
Jamie ignored him.
Fleas wolfed down the remaining food before following Jamie into her bedroom. She closed the door and locked it. "I know what you're thinking," she said. "You're thinking I didn't handle that very well."
He belched in response.
* * * * *
Jamie waited until Max went to bed before going out to his car. She needed a friend, and Muffin, despite being a computer, was the closest thing she had at the moment.
She punched a set of numbers into the alarm panel, hit a button, and the garage door rose automatically. She hurried inside and yanked open the car door.
"Hey, Muffin, it's me," she said once she'd climbed into the car.
"Jamie, don't you ever sneak up on me like that again! I almost hit the panic button."
"This place has too many alarms," Jamie grumbled. "I can't go to the bathroom without fear of setting something off."
"What are you doing here?" Muffin asked. "I thought you'd gone back to Beaumont."
"I decided to come to Tennessee on my own," she said. "You know how badly I want to do a story on Harlan Rawlins and his mob buddies. So, I said to hell with Max and came on my own."
"Where are you staying?"
"With Max."
"Oh." Muffin paused. "Did I miss something?"
Jamie filled her in on all that had happened since her arr
ival.
"You actually went to Harlan's church and told him you were a sex addict?" Muffin said in disbelief.
"Yep. After all, you're the one who told me he had a weakness for women. You should have seen the look on his face. I'm meeting him tomorrow for private counseling. I wish you could see me, Muffin. I look like I'm peddling poontang, for sure." Jamie laughed. It was good talking to Muffin again. And easy to forget she was a voice-activated computer.
"It sounds dangerous to me, kiddo. What does Max have to say about this?"
"He wasn't exactly thrilled to see me at church, but we got past that. By the way, Max and I are supposed to be married."
"Oh God, this'll never work."
"It has to, Muffin. This is the chance I've been waiting for. My big break. And it's only the beginning."
"Listen, Jamie, you don't know what you're getting into. This Rawlins guy could be dangerous. Especially if he's in tight with the mob like we think he is."
"OK, if I sound like I'm not taking it seriously it's because I'm excited. But I'm very much aware of the risks. I'm not leaving anything to chance. It's not like Max and I haven't faced danger before."
"The two of you were very lucky to get out of Beaumont alive," Muffin said. "You can't afford to take chances now."
"I promise I'll be careful. Look, I have to get back to the house in case Max wakes up. Don't tell him I talked to you. Try to act surprised when he tells you I'm back."
Muffin sighed. "I knew this was going to get complicated."
* * * * *
Max tossed in his bed for an hour before he climbed out and pulled on his jeans. He slipped from the house quietly. A moment later he was telling Muffin all that had taken place since they'd last talked.
"Jamie just blew into town in an old pickup truck with an ugly bloodhound in the back," he said. "I couldn't let her go after Rawlins on her own, so I convinced her to work with me. She's staying at my cabin."
"How are the two of you getting along?"
"Jamie promised not to be difficult."
"And what did you promise?"
Max sounded defensive when he spoke. "Are you saying I'm difficult?"
"Now where would I get an idea like that?"
"OK," he said begrudgingly. "I promised not to disable any more bombs. You got anything for me?" he asked, stifling a yawn.