Page 50 of Hot Pursuit

Jo sat stock still.

“And your dad? I have some credit card receipts that indicate he was off the island around the same time? Did he tell you who he met with while he was gone?”

No.

And I never asked. Because whenever I was left alone on the island, I could forget why I lived there and what my father was doing and I could just be…me. I watched the Food Network, spent hours in the kitchen, sat on the beach with a notebook dreaming up recipes, and did my best to forget. Like I’m going to do right now.

Jo stood abruptly, done with this conversation.

Nate wrapped his fingers around her wrist, firm enough to stop her, but not enough to hurt. “Jo, wait.”

“Why?” She whirled around, raising her voice, unable to stop it, unable to hide how much this conversation was affecting her. “Why should I stay and listen to you? What are you even trying to do?”

“I’m trying to force you to ask yourself the questions you’ve been running from for your entire life.” He loosened his hold, but Jo didn’t walk away. The ire in his gaze had turned to concern, to caring. For some reason, that hurt worse. Yet her feet were stuck to the ground, trapped, as Nate shifted his hold, sliding his palm down her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and squeezing in a different way, a way that made her heart burn. “I’m trying to get you to see that you’ve been lied to for years, by the people you’re risking your freedom to protect. I’m trying to tell you that there could be another way, another life, a better life…for you.”

“Stop.” Jo lifted her other hand and pressed her finger to his mouth.

“Why?” he asked, soft lips moving against her skin, almost like a kiss, yet so incredibly different. She dropped her hand away.

“Because I know what you’re going to say,” Jo murmured, staring at his chest, not able to lift her gaze that foot higher and look him in the eyes.I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to offer me all my dreams on a silver platter in one hand and the knife to stab my own father in the back in the other. And I told Thad I could handle it, but if I hear it out loud…I’m not sure what I’ll do.“I know, Nate. And my answer is no.”

“Jo,” he pleaded softly. “They’re lying to you.”

“And I’m letting them.” Jo shrugged. “I’m not the innocent girl you’ve made me out to be, Nate. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

He put his fingers under her chin, lifting her face so she had no choice but to look into the deep pools of his eyes. “Do you?”

No.

No.

No.

No.

“Yes.”

They both knew she was lying.

The waver in her voice was unmistakable.

But when she wrenched her arm to the side, Nate let her go. And when she turned to walk away, he didn’t try to follow.

Instead, he said, “Think about it, Jo.”

She didn’t comment.

“Think about it. And maybe tonight, you’ll have a different answer.”

Like hell I will.

But no roaring retort rose to her lips—her throat was too tight and burned too much to let one through. And as much as she wanted to storm off, not gracing Nate Parker with another millisecond of her time, all she did for the rest of the day was think about those questions he’d asked her, and the totally assured, totally confident tone he’d used.

As she sat in a chair at the hair salon.

As she got her nails painted.

As she got makeup applied.