been doing a lot of touching for two people who were at odds. And they were at odds, no doubt about it. Kinley couldn’t mistake the distrust she saw in him. Maybe other emotions, too.
He wasn’t pleased with her arrival.
She wasn’t pleased about it, either. If she’d known she would bring this kind of danger to her son, she would have stayed away.
“I’m really sorry,” she said.
He continued to stare at her. There was a heat in his eyes. Maybe from the contact. Maybe from his anger. “You should be,” he grumbled. He stepped away, turned off the water and threw open the door.
Jordan made a beeline for her kitchen and opened the only cabinet. “Hey, you don’t have any scotch,” he called out.
“No,” Kinley answered tentatively, not sure if this was part of the game they were playing. “I can run out for some if you like.”
“I have a better idea. Grab a change of clothes, and we’ll go to my place. I have plenty of scotch there.”
His place. Where they’d be able to talk without an eavesdropping device. But it would mean going back outside where that black car was likely still parked and waiting.
“What if he follows us?” she mouthed.
“That’s what I’m hoping. You’ve opened Pandora’s box, and now I’m going to see if I can close it.”
Not understanding, Kinley shook her head. “What does that mean?”
He leaned in again. “I don’t want him or anyone else to think I have something to hide.” He glanced around. “And besides, this place isn’t safe.”
Even though he’d whispered that, it rang through her as if he’d shouted it. “But I don’t want to lead him to Maddox.”
“You won’t.” And with that, he motioned for her to pack. “Bring your laptop and your notes, but put them in an overnight bag so they can’t be seen.”
She didn’t question him further. The only reassurance she’d needed was that this wouldn’t put her son in any more danger than he already was. Besides, it might help if Jordan looked at her notes. He might find something she’d missed. And if they found it, they might also be able to figure out who was behind Shelly’s murder.
Kinley grabbed a small suitcase and hurriedly packed everything she might need for a short stay, including the notes, which she took from inside the lining of a coat she had hanging in the closet. When she came out of the bedroom, Jordan was by the door peeking out the side window.
“Is he still there?” she whispered.
Jordan nodded. He reached out and ran his hand through her hair, messing it up. He did the same to his. No doubt so it’d look as if they’d just had a quick round of sex.
They walked out, their arms hooked around each other, and got into the car. Jordan drove away quickly. So did the other car.
Just as Jordan had predicted, it followed them.
“You’re sure this won’t make things more dangerous for my son?” she asked.
“I’m sure.”
So, that probably meant Maddox wasn’t at his house. But then, there’d been no indication that he was. Jordan likely had him tucked away somewhere. But where? And who was caring for him? It broke her heart to think that her little boy might not get enough hugs and kisses.
Because she’d already driven to Jordan’s house, she was familiar with the route. He lived in a subdivision within city limits but still secluded. It had pricy homes on massive lots, some of them several acres. Jordan’s was one of the largest in the neighborhood. A true Texas-size estate for a Texas millionaire.
Shelly had certainly made a strange choice when she involved Jordan in this.
“Is it true what you said about Maddox—that Shelly left him on your porch the night she died?” Kinley asked. Right now, she wanted every little detail she could learn about her son and what he’d gone through.
Jordan didn’t answer right away. He glanced at her first. “Yes.”
It was hard for her to picture that in her mind. Her baby literally left on a doorstep. “God, what did you think when you opened the door and saw a baby?”
“I thought he was my son.” He stared straight ahead and repeated that softly under his breath. “Then, with Shelly’s murder, it took me a few days to get around to the DNA test. I had Shelly’s DNA on file, since she was a former employee, and when I did the comparison, I learned he wasn’t Shelly’s. Nor mine.”
Was it her imagination or did he sound disappointed? Hurt, even?
But she had to be wrong about that.
Jordan was a ruthless businessman, along with being a rich player who enjoyed the company of lots of women. He would have taken care of her son, but she seriously doubted he would ever think of himself as a father.
“Who’s taking care of him?” Kinley asked.
She waited.
And waited.
He opened his mouth, and she thought she might finally learn an answer to one of her many questions, but before he could say anything, his phone rang.
Jordan didn’t waste any time answering it. “Cody,” he said after glancing at the screen. He took the turn toward his neighborhood. The street switched from four lanes to two, and though it was well lit with a line of streetlights, it felt isolated because the lots were so spacious.
She couldn’t hear Cody’s side of the conversation, but she could see Jordan’s reaction. She noticed his grip tighten on the wheel. Saw the muscles flicker in his jaw.
“You’re sure?” Jordan asked. Then he paused. “No. I’ll take it from here.” Another pause. “I need to ask you to keep this between us.”
A moment later, Jordan ended the call.
“What happened?” Kinley wanted to know when he didn’t offer any information.
“Do you know a guy named Anderson Walker?”
Kinley thought a moment. “No. That name doesn’t ring any bells. Why?”
“He’s the one following us.”
She glanced in the mirror. He was still following them. “What does he want?”
Jordan shrugged, but there was nothing casual about his body language. “He’s a P.I. who works for Burke Securities.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Burke Securities as in the Burke Dennison who bought your company?”
“The very one.”
Kinley shook her head. “Why does Burke have someone following us?”
Another muscle went to work in his jaw. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he’s not being very subtle. And he knows we’re on to him. If I just keep driving, it might send him the wrong message—that we have something to hide.” Jordan took his foot off the accelerator. “Get down now.”
Jordan spun the steering wheel around, causing his Porsche to do a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. It was precise. As if he’d choreographed it, he bumped into the rear side of the black car and sent it into a spin.
Before Kinley could stop him, Jordan drew his gun and threw open the door.
The black car screeched to a stop.
Jordan