Burn (Breathless #3)(13)

Only now it was gone, and so was the last link to her mother.

She left the shop, stepping onto the busy street, uncertain of where exactly she was going next. As she turned to the right, she was stopped by a familiar face. She blinked as she stared back at the man she’d met in the park several days earlier. He was standing there, not looking surprised. In fact, he looked as though he’d been waiting for her. Crazy thought, but she didn’t get the impression he was startled at all by the unexpected meeting.

“Josie,” he murmured.

“H-hello,” she stammered out.

“I believe I have something that belonged to you.”

He held out an opened box and as soon as she saw inside, her breath caught and stilled in her chest.

She raised her gaze back to him in confusion.

“How did you get this? I don’t understand. How could you have possibly gotten it? How did you know?”

He smiled, but his eyes were steely. No hint of a smile in those green eyes.

“I bought it after you sold it to the pawnshop. I’m guessing since you just came out of there that you want it back.”

“Yes, of course I want it back. But that doesn’t answer the question as to how you got it.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I just told you. I bought it after you sold it.”

She shook her head impatiently and it was then his gaze came to rest at her throat. Her bare throat. His eyes glittered with instant interest. She lifted a hand automatically to where the collar had once rested.

He’d know that she’d worn it awhile. There was a thin band of paler skin from where the necklace had been.

“It doesn’t explain how you knew about it,” she said huskily.

“Does it matter?” he asked mildly.

“Yes, it does! Have you been following me?”

“Me personally? No.”

“It’s supposed to make me feel better that you had someone else following me?” she demanded. “That’s just . . . creepy!”

“Do you want the jewelry back?” he asked bluntly.

“Of course I do,” she said in irritation. “How much do you want for it?”

“I don’t want money.”

She took a step back, looking warily up at him. They were on a public street and there were people all around them, but that didn’t mean a whole lot if he was some deranged lunatic out to do her harm.

“Then what do you want?”

“Dinner. Tonight. I’ll bring the jewelry and you can have it. All I want in return is your company for the evening.”

She shook her head. “No way. I don’t know you. I know nothing about you.”

He smiled patiently. “That’s what dinner is for. So you get to know me better. And I can get to know you better.”

“You obviously know a hell of a lot about me,” she snapped. “Including where to find me and where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing.”

“Why aren’t you wearing the collar?” he asked, his gaze once more raking across her throat.

His stare made her feel vulnerable. Like she was completely undressed in front of him.

This time she laid her splayed hand over her throat as if trying to hide the bare expanse of her skin from his gaze.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she said in a low voice.

“I intend to make it my business.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you honestly think I’m going to agree to go to dinner with you? You’ve been stalking me, or rather you’ve had me stalked. You’re asking personal questions and you’re basically blackmailing me for the return of my mother’s jewelry.”

“So it belonged to your mother,” he said softly. “It must be important to you.”

Pain stabbed into her chest and she had to suck in a breath to steady herself.

“Yes. Yes, it does,” she said in a quiet voice. “I hated having to sell it. If only I’d waited a day. I have to get it back. It’s the only thing I have left of her. Tell me what you paid and I’ll give you the money. Please.”

“I don’t want your money, Josie. I want your time. Dinner tonight. Public place. No strings. I bring the jewelry. You just bring yourself.”

“And after? Will you leave me alone?”

“Can’t promise that,” he said mildly. “I go after what I want. If I gave up every time an obstacle was thrown into my path, I wouldn’t be very successful now would I?”

“You don’t know me,” she said in frustration. “You don’t want me. How could you? You know nothing about me.”

“Which is why I want to have dinner with you tonight,” he said patiently.

But she could tell he was fast losing his patience. His eyes simmered with impatience even as his tone remained even. He was clearly a man used to getting his own way. She could tell that just by looking at him. Why the hell would he want her, though? What could she possibly have that he’d want?

He was a man who wouldn’t have to look far for any woman. They probably lined up outside his door at any given time. He was obviously wealthy. He had that polished GQ look that screamed wealth and privilege. And he had a quiet confidence—arrogance—about him that told her he not only got what he wanted, but that he knew it too.