No, absolutely not.
“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t.”
“I insist.”
Jane lifted her chin, ready to tell him she’d do as she pleased.
“I ain’t lettin’ you leave my sight until I get the whole story. Though I got a feelin’ once I get the details out of you, I’m still gonna keep you here.”
“Why?”
“You’re in danger, Jane. I can tell.” He said it simply, without any of his usual shenanigans—which was sobering. “This ain’t a come-on—I’m concerned about you. You can stay in one of the guest rooms.” Byron lifted a brow. “Besides, I can tell you don’t want to be alone.”
Now that he mentioned it, the thought of being on a lonely highway in the middle of the night made her queasy.
Maybe the extra sleep would do her some good. Tomorrow morning, she’d wake up refreshed and ready for work.
Things will look better in the light of morning, right?
Somehow, Jane doubted it.
“Okay, I’ll stay. Thank you for the hospitality.” Jane gritted the words out.
“Knew you’d see things my way.” Byron stood a little straighter.
And now he was giving her a headache. “I’m not in the mood for any trouble.”
“Then I’ll be on my best behavior.” He grabbed the candelabra. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”
“You’re coming upstairs with me?”
Jane hadn’t counted on an escort. She figured he’d tell her where the guest rooms were and she’d pick one.
“This place is old, and it’s dark. As a good host, I can’t let you stumble around in the shadows.”
“I have a flashlight app on my phone.” And she didn’t want to be anywhere near a bedroom while in his vicinity.
“I don’t want you to get lost, darlin’.”
Did he have an answer for everything? It was pointless to argue.
“Fine, we’ll do it your way.”
“I hope this is a sign of things to come.”
I wouldn’t bet on it.
And then he led her upstairs down a long, stately hallway.
Being in Beauregard Manor reminded her of who and what he was. The walls were lined with family portraits. He came from an infamous Texas family. They’d bootlegged their way to fame and fortune during the prohibition years. Filthy lucre had gotten them into state politics. It wouldn’t be long before a Beauregard got himself into the statehouse. They might even go after the presidency one day.
They stopped in front of a door near the end of the hall.
“Enjoy your stay.” Byron twisted the knob with a flourish. “I’m right beside you, if you need anything.”
“I won’t.” Jane hit the flashlight button and walked inside.
He winked. “But you might want another hug.”
She could already tell touching him had been a mistake. Jane sighed; it was a ragged, rough sound.
His face sobered. “You can relax tonight.”
“Can I?”
“Have I ever given you a reason to fear me?”
“No.” He might be exasperating, but she’d never been afraid of him.
He expelled a breath. “Good.”
“And what if it isn’t you I’m afraid of?”
“I’ve got armed guards surroundin’ the place. My security system should be back on once the power’s fixed.” He touched his jacket, briefly outlining the shape of his gun against the fabric. “And I’m standin’ between you and any trouble comin’ your way tonight. Whoever the bastard is, he ain’t comin’ nowhere near you while I’m here.”
His promise made her feel better.
That’s how chaotic her life was right now—somehow, the thought of sleeping next door to a hitman made her feel better.
“Goodnight, Byron.” She grasped the door handle.
“Night, Jane.” But he didn’t leave.
“Why are you still standing there?”
“Aren’t you forgettin’ somethin’?” A wicked light entered his eyes. How on earth did he manage to look roguish ninety percent of the time?
“Like what?”
“My goodnight kiss.”
Jane slammed the door shut in his face.
Chapter Six
“No, don’t!”
Gasping, Byron sat up in bed, automatically reaching for the Glock on the nightstand. The steel was familiar in his grip, the texture soothed him. The alarm clock read 5:23 in the morning.
Lately, he’d been dreaming about his childhood more often and couldn’t put his finger on why.
In his dreams, Byron was once again eight years old in this very house, hiding under the bed, flat on his belly. His childhood bedroom had been right across the hall from his parents’ room, and he’d heard horrific things over the years.