Wild Stallion

She pulled the folded sheet of paper from her jeans and handed it to him. But not without touching him. Her fingers brushed his. She was still trembling.

Hell.

He didn’t want her fear and emotions—or his reaction to them—to have any part in this. He wanted a cool detachment between Bailey and himself while he helped her, and himself. But that zing of heat didn’t equal anything cool. Jackson was betting the detachment wouldn’t go far, either. And that meant he had to do something about it.

Bailey jerked back her hand as if he’d scalded her, and she dodged his gaze when she spoke. “The first woman is Shannon Wright, an RN who was on the fourth floor of the hospital that day, but no one remembers seeing her after the gunmen arrived. She claims she hid.”

It was possible Shannon Wright was telling the truth—hiding would be the logical thing to do—but Bailey was right to suspect her.

“The second one is Robin Russo. She works in records in the administration section. The other floors of the hospital were evacuated after the gunmen arrived in the maternity ward, and someone saw Robin leave her office, but no one, including the police, actually saw her leave the building.”

Jackson gave that some thought. “You have a motive for either of these women?”

She shook her head. “Well, unless they got money from selling my baby to someone.”

And that was something Jackson couldn’t rule out—yet—but he would.

“What about your son’s father?” Jackson asked. “Maybe he’s the one who had your son taken?”

Another headshake. “My baby’s father broke off things with me when I told him I was pregnant. He took a job in Europe, and I haven’t heard from him, other than an email to remind me that he wanted nothing to do with the child.”

Jackson tried not to have any visible reaction to that, but her story only made him feel more sympathy for her. And empathy, because of his own bad relationship. He had to keep his distance from her, because empathy and attraction were a lethal combination.

“If I find out you’re lying about any of this …” he reiterated.

“I know. You’ll destroy me. And if I find out you knowingly stole my son, all your money and power won’t stop me from coming after you.”

He almost smiled. Almost. Considering her predicament, she still had some fight in her.

That wouldn’t mix well with the attraction, either.

“The sheriff will come inside any minute,” he reminded her and himself. “If you’re here, he’ll want to know why. Are you prepared to answer his questions?”

Jackson didn’t want her out of his sight, but he also didn’t want to risk her being underfoot. He would have her followed when she left, so he could keep tabs on her until he had more information about her and her missing child.

“I’m prepared. Well, as prepared as I can be. The last time I was in protective custody, I was nearly killed.” She paused. “I suppose it could happen again. That’s the reason I’ve avoided the cops, but I’m too close to turn back now.”

It was what he expected her to say. So he had to do whatever was necessary to speed up this process and get her out of his and Caden’s lives.

“May I see Caden?” she asked.

“No.” Jackson didn’t even have to think about it.

She nodded, and paused as if she might challenge that. But she didn’t.

The intercom system made a slight buzzing sound. A moment later, his household manager, Steven Perez, spoke through the tiny speaker built into the wall. “Sheriff Gentry is out front waiting for the ambulance. He says once he has the man on the way to the hospital, he wants to speak to Bailey Hodges if she’s still on the grounds.”

The color drained from Bailey’s face. “How did the sheriff know I was here? And how did he know my name? Did you tell him?” She still didn’t look ready to bolt, but it was possible she might faint. Or hyperventilate.

“No. I didn’t tell him your name, but you can trust the sheriff,” Jackson told her. “I’ve known Alden Gentry my whole life, and he wouldn’t do anything illegal.”

Still, Bailey shook her head … and then she tried to grab his gun. He snagged her wrist, but she tried to get the weapon with her left hand.

Jackson finally just caught onto her shoulders and put her against the wall. Body-to-body. Not the brightest idea he’d ever had, but it stopped her.

“Please,” she said, her warm breath brushing against his mouth at the same time her breasts pressed against his chest.

That “please” wouldn’t work, but Jackson knew it wasn’t a good idea to keep touching her like this.

“Why does Sheriff Gentry want to see Miss Hodges?” Jackson asked, directing his question to the intercom so that Steven would hear him.

“Because she might be involved with the intruder,” Steven answered at the same moment that Bailey issued a denial.

“I had nothing to do with this,” she insisted.

“Not according to the sheriff,” Steven contradicted. “When Sheriff Gentry approached the man, he said Bailey Hodges brought him to the estate with her.”

Her breath was gusting even harder now, and she frantically shook her head. She also struggled to break free of his grip. But Jackson held on.

“Did the intruder say why she brought him here?” Jackson asked.

“He did.” Steven paused again. “He claims Bailey Hodges paid him to kill you.”

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