“Not by the cops.”
That wasn’t quite a full answer, now, was it?
“It’s just a scratch,” Jasmine said, her voice a little stronger. “I can slap some bandages on it and be fine.”
Doubtful. “You’re still bleeding.” That bastard had wanted to hurt her. He had.
And I want to destroy him.
He sucked in a deep breath. Another. What in the hell was happening to him? Sure, control was never actually his strong suit, but wanting to pound a man into the ground?
Not…me.
Drake turned his head and stared at Jasmine. She wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were on the alley.
“Jasmine.” He liked her name. Sexy. Feminine. Drake liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.
Her head turned. Her hair slid over her cheek.
“If the cops aren’t after you, who is?”
She bit her lip.
He wanted to be the one doing that biting.
You f**ked her. You fell for the eyes, you f**ked her, and now you want more just like—
“Thank you,” Jasmine told him.
“For what?”
“Saving me. That doesn’t happen a lot for me.”
He cranked the car. The engine immediately purred to life.
“Please.” The word seemed to be a bit hard for her to say. Interesting. “Don’t…don’t take me to a hospital. I’m staying in a motel just outside of town. Just drop me off there, and I’ll vanish from your life. I promise.”
He pulled into traffic. He was far too aware of her next to him.
“If you turn right at the next intersection, you’ll be able to get back to my motel.”
Drake stared at the road ahead of him.
“The turn is here,” Jasmine said, her voice breaking a bit. From pain? From fear? “You should go right—”
He didn’t go right.
“Drake?”
“You’ve got a lot of secrets.”
“Why didn’t you turn? I told you, I’d vanish. I won’t bother you again.”
She was already bothering him plenty. He should drop her off at the nearest hospital. Get on a plane and head down to New Orleans. Find another woman and forget about her. But he heard himself say, “You’re not vanishing.”
The Porsche accelerated.
He wasn’t done with Jasmine yet. She wasn’t going any place, not until he’d figured out just who had sent her into his life…and why the sight of a wedding picture had made her nearly crumble.
***
Dammit. Wayne slammed his car door shut. He turned the key, but the old engine didn’t spark to life. Not on try number two or three. On the fourth try, the thing finally sputtered to life.
Good.
He had a meeting, one that he was way overdue for, and the boss sure wasn’t going to like the news that Wayne had to share.
He didn’t have Jasmine.
And Drake Archer did.
Wayne swiped his hand over his face. His nose throbbed like a bitch. He’d be sure to pay Archer back for those blows. So he’d cut Jasmine a bit. Wasn’t like it was the first time she’d been roughed up. He’d read her file. The woman spent most of her nights on the wrong side of town and with the wrong people.
Archer had enemies. Plenty of them. Did the fool even realize how intimately connected Jasmine was with those who wanted the casino mogul taken down?
“The bigger they are…” Wayne muttered. The more they should suffer when they fall.
***
Drake drove through the heavy gates that led to his estate. A new acquisition, much like the Arrow. Drake didn’t like staying in hotels. That was his buddy Noah’s bit. Hell, hotels were Noah’s life. Drake needed privacy. A sanctuary away from the rest of the world.
Guards waved to him from their post at the gate.
“Uh, want to tell me what’s happening?” Jasmine's voice was low.
He pulled up near the front of the house.
“Drake.” Now anger vibrated in her voice. “Answer me. You’ve been dead silent the whole drive. Talk to me.”
He killed the ignition and slowly turned to face her. “You said no hospitals, so I brought you here.” He paused. “And you know it’s my house. The way I figure it, you must have conducted some research on me. So I’m sure you recognize this place.”
She didn’t deny the charge. Instead, Jasmine asked, “Why would you bring me to your house?”
“You mean…why would I trust you enough to let you inside? Princess, it’s not about trust. Because I don’t trust anyone.”
He caught the faint flicker of her eyelashes.
“You know I made a phone call on the way here.” She’d asked who he called, but he hadn’t told her. He’d been too pissed for much talking. Pissed at her, at Wayne, at himself. Why am I keeping her so close? “A friend of mine is waiting inside for you.”
He slid from the car. She didn’t move. He hurried around to her side of the vehicle. When he opened her door, the Porsche’s interior light came on, and as the illumination poured down onto Jasmine, he realized that she’d turned pale. The gold of her skin was a pallor that he didn’t like.
Drake reached for her.
She pulled back. “Is this…friend…a cop?”
“You sure have some cop issues.”
“Yeah, I do.”
She rose from the car. Swayed a bit. He grabbed her, and she just felt so slight in his arms. He’d noticed it before. A delicacy that he didn’t expect. Back at the Arrow, she’d seemed full of energy and life, but when he’d touched her, Drake had thought…I have to be careful.
“Is the friend a cop or not?”
Then her knees buckled.
He held her easily. Lifted her into his arms. “Dammit, you’re worse than you said! You need—”
“Don’t let…anyone take me away.”
He hurried up the steps. The front door opened as if on cue for him.
“That’s something I didn’t expect to see…” An amused voice drawled from the doorway.
Drake’s hold tightened around Jasmine. “He’s not a cop. He’s a doctor.”
“A doctor who had other plans for the night,” Carson Thorn muttered as he stepped out of the doorway. “I left one very hot blonde in the lurch, and you so owe me for that.”
Drake grunted. Carson could be an ass, but he was one useful commodity. Drake had discovered early on that it paid to have connections—legal, social, and medical. In Drake’s world, there were plenty of times when a doctor’s services were needed.