With that, he jerked the front door open and stalked out. The door slammed behind him, the force rattling the panes of glass in the metal door.

Kenni could only stare at the entrance, blinking in shock. He had to be the most irritating human she had ever met in her life. He didn’t make a damned bit of sense. Evidently, in ten years that hadn’t changed a bit.

But his kisses were like potent wine. Her senses filled with the memory of them as her hand lifted, her fingers touching the still-swollen curves. And even as irritated as she was with him, she wished his lips were still on hers, his hands caressing her. Even knowing it could never go farther than a night or two in his arms, she ached for it.

She ached for him.

And she couldn’t have him, at least not for long. Not long enough to endanger him, not long enough for him to figure out the lies she was living.

Moving slowly back to the bedroom, she resigned herself to the ache Jazz created in her body. Her nipples were so hard that the rasp of her bra was almost unbearable. The swollen bud of her clit was aching with such heated need, she knew there would be no easing it for a while.

She hadn’t known how hot, how intense she could burn in his arms.

She hadn’t known how deep regret could be, or how much it could hurt to know that her time with him would be short, whether she went to his bed or not.

Her time as well as her life were limited, she feared. Because as soon as the Kin realized where she was, she would die. If she didn’t learn who was trying to kill her and who had murdered her mother, then there would be no chance of survival. Risking Jazz to that fate was something she couldn’t bear to do—and something she feared he wouldn’t allow her to walk away from if he even suspected her real identity. God, she prayed daily he didn’t, because Jazz would be the hardest one to escape.

CHAPTER 5

She was being watched, not hunted as she had been in the past, but Kenni could feel that vulnerable sense of eyes on her, tracking her movements and following her as she left the house a few mornings later. Keeping her steps relaxed and unhurried, she walked the few blocks to the café where she and Jessie met for coffee a few mornings a week.

This was the first time she’d been followed while walking there. The sensation drove home the fact that she’d perhaps grown complacent because she hadn’t been bothered or noticed by the Kin since arriving in Loudoun.

For a moment she considered returning to the house and getting the small car she drove. That would only tip them off, though, she feared, let them see that she suspected they were watching her. It would only give her away. Let them wait, wonder. Maybe, just maybe she’d have time to identify who it was before they were certain it was her rather than who she said she was.

Who was watching her or how they were managing to follow her, Kenni wasn’t certain. There wasn’t much traffic moving through the streets; no single vehicle stood out or passed more than once. No one else jogged or walked along the sidewalk that morning, and no one seemed overly interested in her movements.

But the feeling was there.

Her forehead was tight with instinctive awareness, the sensitive skin between her shoulder blades prickling with it.

This wasn’t the driving awareness of a weapon trained on her, or that hollow ache of panic that came whenever she’d been found before. It was more a feeling of simply not being alone when she knew she should be.

Keeping her steps purposefully unhurried, Kenni pretended she was simply enjoying the warm summer morning. If she had to run, she would; if she had to fight, she could. For the moment, though, she pretended to be completely unaware that she was being watched.

The light tan capris and white tank top matched with leather sandals she wore weren’t the ideal clothes to have to run in, but she’d learned to be prepared over the years. She could get to more durable clothes within minutes if she had to. Gunny had taught her to never allow herself to be caught unprepared or without the clothes and tools she needed to survive.

Charles “Gunny” Jones had been her mother’s half brother, one Kenni had never known existed until the night of her mother’s murder. He’d shown up the night of the fire to meet with her mother, his deep-brown eyes filled with concern when he’d met Kenni. Later that night Kenni had walked in on her mother’s murderer and nearly become a casualty herself.

She forced the memory back. She couldn’t let herself become mired in the past again. The terror and betrayal she had felt that night had scarred her in ways she knew she’d never recover from. Everything she had believed in had died and all the trust that had been built through her life disintegrated.

Had it not been for Gunny, she would have died. He’d surged through the smoke and flames just in time to rescue her.

She’d escaped, but as they ran from the hotel someone else had been waiting. Someone who had put a bullet in her shoulder, leaving a reminder that she would never truly be safe. Her assassin could be waiting anywhere, at any time, if she wasn’t careful not to give herself away.

Reaching the café Kenni pushed inside, her gaze scanning the area until she spotted Jessie and Slade where they sat on the far side of the room. It wasn’t often Slade came with his wife; he claimed “girl talk” made him itch. Evidently this morning he’d decided to suffer.

Smiling at the couple Kenni moved across the floor as she hoped—hell, she prayed—Jazz wasn’t with them. She’d had all she could deal with this week when it came to the local Romeo.

Jazz had been far different at twenty-three, she reflected. He had smiled and had fun, but he’d seemed to take relationships more seriously. Not that she’d known him to really have a relationship, come to think of it, but neither had he been screwing his way through the county.

“Am I late or are you early?” Kenni asked as she took the seat across from the couple and smiled back at Jessie.

Three months’ pregnant and glowing with health and Slade’s love, Jessie was radiant. The light, soft white sundress she wore made her eyes appear deeper, darker. It complimented her smooth complexion and dark brown hair while making her look more innocent than she already did.

“I think we were just very early,” Jessie assured her with a small grin as Slade poured an extra cup of coffee from the carafe at his elbow. “Slade had an errand to run and finished up sooner than he thought he would so we came on over.”

Adding sugar and cream to the steaming coffee, Kenni glanced at Slade to see his gaze on the bandage on her hand.

“It wasn’t really that bad,” she assured him, lifting the cup for a much-needed sip. “It just looked like I was bleeding out.”

“It did indeed,” he agreed. “Jazz mentioned running by your place to check on you after you left. Did he make it?”

Kenni lifted her head and glared at him as Jessie’s smothered laughter had his lips kicking up at one corner.

“I thought you two liked me.” Sitting back in her chair, she stared at the two in disappointment.

“We do like you, sweetie,” Jessie assured her, her brown eyes sparkling with amused affection. “I’ve just never seen Jazz like this. He doesn’t know if he should be sweet or irritated with you. It’s kind of cute.”

“It’s kind of scary.” Slade grimaced, though his gray eyes gleamed with his own amusement. “I used to be able to predict what he’ll do. That’s not working anymore.”

Kenni’s brow lifted before she gave a little roll of her eyes. “You’re telling me this why? It’s not my fault the man is completely psycho.”

Slade snorted at the accusation. “He’s more psycho than normal, then,” he pointed out. “Actually, Jessie’s right, Jazz isn’t normally so focused on one woman. I consider that a good thing. On a good day.”