She yanked open the balcony door and found herself inside an office. A long conference table waited to the right. She ran past it and toward what she hoped would be an exit door. She had to find the stairs or an elevator and get—
“Going somewhere?”
Trace Weston lunged out of the darkness of that room. He stood between Jasmine and her precious exit door. And he was a definite immovable object. His head was cocked as he studied her.
She staggered to a stop.
“Unlike Drake, I didn’t stay around to see if you’d make it to the other side of that little ledge.” He took a step toward her. “I’m the one who’s been investigating you for the last few days, so I know just what you’re capable of doing. What you have done. I knew you’d dance right across that ledge.”
“Y-your wife is the dancer, not me.” Trace was married to an ex-prima ballerina, so that taunt just rolled right out of her mouth. This big, tough, scary guy had hooked up with a woman as delicate as fine china.
Maybe opposites really did attract.
She choked back her fear and said, “You have to get out of my way.”
Her lead time was dwindling fast. Drake would be running in there soon.
Trace looked genuinely confused. “Why would I want to do that? I don’t think Drake planned for you to disappear from his life.”
Her gaze flew to the door behind him. She only had seconds. “I’m going to hurt him.”
“How?”
“I’m not a woman to be trusted, but I think you already discovered that.” She inched toward him. “Please, I need to get out of the Masquerade. I have to go see Victor—”
“The FBI agent?”
She nodded quickly “He’s the only one who can stop this.”
His arms crossed over his chest. “You should have more faith in Drake.”
It wasn’t about faith. It was about what would happen. “I don’t want to hurt him,” she confessed. “So you have to get out of my way.”
He shook his head.
Her back teeth locked. She hadn’t made it across that scary-as-sin ledge to be blocked by this guy. Footsteps were pounding outside of the door. Drake—rushing after her.
“Why did you try to run?” Trace asked her. “We were making plans to fly you up to New York.”
“Oh, how wonderful,” she muttered. “Plans for my life. Thanks, but I’ve already got plans of my own.”
And since he wasn’t getting out of her way, Jasmine did the only thing that she could—she made a break for it. A fast, desperate run.
But Trace caught her before she’d taken more than three steps. His arms locked tightly around her, and he yanked her up against his chest.
“I don’t trust you, and, unlike Drake, I wasn’t taken in by your innocent eyes.”
Her eyes were innocent? Since when?
“You aren’t getting away,” he promised.
The door burst open. Drake stood there, chest heaving, eyes blazing.
“Not from any of us.” Trace’s whisper slid into her ear.
She heaved in his hold. The guy just tightened his grip, so she slammed down her heel. She hit his foot, then his shin, then anything she could find.
“Stop it!” Drake yanked her out of Trace’s arms. “What the hell were you thinking? You could have died out there.”
He didn’t get it. “If I stay with you, I am dead. We both are. I’m a target, big and red, and Maxwell is coming for me fast and hard. Or did you miss that shoot out on the street? He wants me, and he’ll take out anyone who gets in his way.” Her gaze darted from Trace to Noah. Lingered on Noah. “I can’t have collateral damage. I won’t.” Just looking at Noah hurt.
He had no clue who she was to him. And, seeing as how Trace had no doubt given the guy an earful about her many sins, it was better that way.
“I’m leaving,” she said this flatly. “Even if I have to climb over a dozen balconies, I’ll do it.”
Noah stalked closer to her. “Balcony climbing isn’t necessary. You are leaving. With me. Our plane will take off within the hour.”
Jasmine shook her head and flinched away from him. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” No way could that be an option. Not ever. Noah had to be safe. He had a life. A wife. A family.
I wanted a family. For so long.
And she was staring right at the family that was hers.
Noah frowned at her. “Are you…okay?”
Dammit, she was almost crying in front of the guy! Jasmine blinked away the water that filled her eyes.
“Jasmine…” Now Drake was sounding all worried and his hand was slowly stroking her arm. “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let Maxwell hurt you.”
Seriously? It wasn’t about her. It was about them! Him. Noah. Even ass**le Trace. She straightened her spine. “Tell them,” she demanded with a fast glare at Trace. “Tell them that they’re wasting their time. That I’m not worth any help they want to give.”
Trace’s eyes narrowed to near slits as he studied her.
“Tell them!” Jasmine yelled. Her heart was breaking. She couldn’t be this close to Drake…and to Noah.
Noah doesn’t know me. I’m a stranger to him. A stranger who could rip his life apart.
She’d never wanted to rip apart Noah’s life. She’d wanted to meet him. Just see him.
When she’d been a kid, she used to dream about Noah…she’d known he existed, of course. Her mother had told her all about the baby boy she’d given up for adoption.
She gave him away…but she kept me.
Jasmine knew Noah was the lucky one.
Her brother. Standing right there. Staring at her.
“I’m not worth it,” Jasmine repeated again. “I’m a criminal, a thief.” Her lips twisted into a humorless smile. “A liar. If I had the chance, I’d betray every single one of you.” Her gaze came back to Drake. She made herself say, “Every. Single. One.”
A muscle flexed in Drake’s jaw.
Jasmine laughed, and the sound was bitter to her own ears. “Didn’t you learn anything from Anna Jean? You don’t want to trust me. You can’t. So get the hell out of my way before I destroy you all.” Such tough words. Such hard words to say.
Because she didn’t want to run from Drake and Noah.
Those two men—they were all she’d ever wanted.
A lover who made her forget the hell of her life.