The Hitman Who Loved Me Read online

  After a good stretch, Jamie hopped off the picnic table, grabbed the clipboard, and headed toward the laundry building to put her cleaning basket together and gather up the linens she needed.

  A groundhog scurried across the lawn and disappeared underneath one of the guest quarters. Those little buggers were everywhere around here, but they caused no trouble to the staff or the guests. The skunks were another matter altogether. Groundskeeper Jobe was about to blow his wig if he had to catch another one of them black and white devils. Jamie loved to accompany him as he set his live trap boxes then brought the furry beasts out to an island to inhabit. The very island the yearly canoeists liked to camp on.

  Bringing the skunks to the island was a funny little joke between the staff at Sharp Ridge Lodge. While they didn’t want to kill the skunks, they didn’t want them stinking up the lodge grounds either. Since the canoeists tended to get in the way of the fishermen, Jobe came up with the idea to let the skunks and the canoeists have their very own island. Every once in a while a scream could be heard echoing over the lake in the direction of Skunk Island.

  Over the next two hours Jamie set up the cabins for the elderly guests and the honeymoon couple. The last cabin to prepare was for the mystery man with no leaving date. After the bathroom sparkled and the floors gleamed, she set out making the bed with hunter green cotton sheets and a floral comforter set in the same deep green. Even the window curtains had the same floral pattern—green being the color of all linen on site with pops of hot pink and yellow. Even though Jamie didn’t care for any type of floral pattern, she had to admit it gave the cabins a cozy, almost Hawaiian vibe.

  She had just finished her final walk-through to make sure she hadn’t missed anything when the distinct rumble of the float plane soared over the lodge. Jamie grabbed her basket, closed the cabin door, and headed back to the laundry building to complete her washing.

  Once her chores were completed for the day, she headed up the path that curved around a thicket of pine, poplar, and mountain ash, toward her cabin overlooking the grounds. She changed into her bathing suit, grabbed a towel, and headed down to the swimming hole next to the cliffs that lined the west side of the property. Sometimes she and Monty would jump or dive off those twenty-foot cliffs. Today, she decided on a leisure swim just beneath them.

  The new arrivals would be in the dining lounge right now enjoying their wild northern meal, then mingle with other guests and staff before retiring to their cabins for the night. Tomorrow the fun of fishing expeditions, hiking trails, or games would begin. Valerie always had something fun planned for the guests. They could enjoy outings as a group if they chose, or just do whatever they desired on their own. They could even take a guide out with them if they weren’t comfortable navigating the twenty-thousand acre lake on their own.

  She dove into the murky water, so dark she couldn’t see a foot past her face, and frog-swam beneath the surface as far as her lungs would take her. When she crested the top, she released a content, invigorated sigh from the cool water on such a hot day. She repeated this move several times, back and forth from shore—a ritual she performed as much as she could handle.

  The distant hum of a boat motor echoed across the bay. A couple of ravens squawked at each other nearby. A tiny avalanche of pebbles skidded down the steep slope beside the cliffs. Jamie swung her body around in the water and glanced up at the cliff, her gaze halting on a man standing there watching her.

  He withdrew one hand from the pocket of his jogging pants and waved. “Hey there. Sorry if I scared you. I came across a trail and found this spot.”

  Something in his mouth glinted in the sunlight. “It’s okay. You must be one of the new guests. I’m Jamie, your housekeeper.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jamie. I’m Jack.”

  The mysterious Jack Daniels. “Nice to meet you, Jack. What brings you to our little paradise in the woods?” Jamie’s arms were beginning to tire from treading water for too long, but she had no plans to drag herself out and climb up that hill just to shake his hand. She could introduce herself properly later on in the lounge. Swimming after work was her private time.

  His soft chuckle made goose bumps slip down her arms. “I thought everyone came to places like this for peace and quiet?”

  “Depends if you’re fishing or hunting I suppose, although small game season doesn’t start for another couple of weeks.” From where she treaded water, he looked like he could be the bushman type. He stood strong and confident; wide shoulders tapered to a lean waist. A thick black beard concealed most of his face, and he wore a baseball cap. But from this distance, she couldn’t make out any fine details about his features.

  “I’ll probably do some fishing, but no hunting for me anyway.”

  Jamie laughed and stretched her arms out, moving in a fluid motion a short distance from where she had treaded water. It was getting harder and harder to keep her chin above the water. “Not the hunting type, Jack?” She wanted to end the conversation and get back to shore.

  “I don’t believe in killing animals.”

  “Good to know. It’s not hunting season anyway.” Despite her exhaustion, Jamie smiled when he laughed. “Well, maybe I’ll see you later. You’re more than welcome to join us all in the lounge this evening. It’s kind of a ritual around here.” She started swimming toward the low end of the shore while she still had enough strength not to drown in front of him.

  “Sure,” he called out as she disappeared around the cliff face.

  As soon as she reached the first flat boulder just beneath the surface of the water, she climbed on top and let out an exhausted groan. Every muscle in her arms screamed that she’d pushed herself too far, but she loved the water. In her eyes, drowning would probably be the best way to go.

  Once she regained her breath and her strength, she made it to shore and wrapped the towel around her body. Something made her look over her shoulder toward the area of the cliffs at the dense brush hiding the walking path behind. She didn’t see him there, but she wondered if the stranger had watched her swim back, or if he stood there watching her now.

  * * * *

  Later that night a strong autumn breeze swished through the trees as twilight fell over Sharp Ridge Lodge. Jamie headed down the path from her cabin surrounded by darkness, yet she knew by heart exactly where to step, having walked these grounds many times over her five years working here. She knew everything by heart. Twenty-eight steps down the path until she reached the flat expanse of the lawn. Eight steps to the right she would reach the first of three woodsheds, then the guest cabins, and then the lodge just beyond. Although Valerie insisted that staff carry a flashlight at night, Jamie had no need for it. The mystery of the woods with the frogs croaking all around the path was just one intriguing part of working and living here.

  The property of the camp itself would be equivalent to three football fields, and beyond the grounds stretched for hundreds of miles in every direction. This site could only be accessed by float plane, helicopter, or portaging from the nearest village.

  Communication with the outside world consisted of a CB radio used to call in the weather report and to call the base post in town. Other than that, the only connection the staff had with family was by written letter. Every day a plane arrived either with guests or supplies, and sometimes both. It came as no surprise to Jamie at all if the plane was full of passengers and gear with a boat tied to each float. If she had a dollar for every time a plane barely crested the treetops, then maybe she wouldn’t be in debt.

  A familiar sound carried along the wind. Jamie smiled as Valerie’s loud cackle blew every other sound out of the water. She must be regaling the guests with stories of past adventures to strumming every banjo tune she knew. Jamie didn’t mind her boss’s silly ways, as long as she didn’t force her to dance with some horny old man like Jobe. Then again, maybe she’d actually get laid if she did.

  The cool air swished up her naked legs. She stopped on t
he path and looked back through the black void, wondering if she should change from shorts and tank top into something warmer. A storm must be brewing as it often did this time of year.

  I’ll be warm inside the lodge anyway. She continued along the path. One of the staff would have a fire going on a chilly night like this.

  As Jamie opened the main door, a haze of cigarette and cigar smoke filled the room. Most of the twelve guests on site were gathered around the massive stone fireplace, listening to Valerie repeat one of her famous stories.

  “…and he almost hooked his nose when the fish spit out the Daredevil, that poor man. I think he learned pretty quickly not to stand up in the boat and yank too hard on his rod!”

  The crowd erupted with laughter. Valerie’s cheeks were flushed with excitement and too much to drink. She waved her arms around, creating more hype for the story; booze swished over the rim of her glass, spattering on the floor beside her.

  Jamie chuckled as she ambled up beside Monty, amazed to see him wearing a checkered button-down shirt and slacks instead of the usual skull-and-bones gear. Valerie must’ve dressed him tonight. She quirked an amused brow and leaned against a log post behind the guests. “How many has she had?”

  “About half a dozen, I guess.”

  “No wonder she’s so loud. That woman can’t handle her booze.”

  Monty chuckled and glanced out over the crowd. “Yeah, but they love her.”

  He was right. Everyone watched her in rapt fascination as she continued on with another story about a group of men who were lost on the lake during a storm. Everyone listened intently to every word. Except for one man. His attention was fixed on Jamie.

  Jamie swallowed as her gaze met his and held. She’d always thought the saying “there was something about him that I couldn’t resist” was utterly pathetic, and yet, that was exactly how she felt right now as they stared at each other. It seemed like this Jack Daniels guy had a temporary spell over her. His dark eyes, glowing amber in the firelight, held her in their grip. A slow, sexy grin curved his full lips. An exciting thrill rushed through her at the sudden and unexpected urge to step outside into the darkness and let him kiss her under the stars.

  Wow. She released a shuddering breath as her stomach cinched just from looking at him.

  “Want a drink?”

  “Hmm?”

  Monty smacked her shoulder, ripping her away from her heated thoughts. She blinked up at him. “What?”

  “I asked if you wanted a drink. But by the look on your face, maybe you’ve had a few already.”

  Her cheeks burned as she elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut up.” She gathered her wits and walked away from him, making her way around the small counter they used for an open bar, made of hand-peeled logs from the property. Oddly enough, she chose Jack and Coke for her evening beverage. What she really needed was that wild encounter outside.

  She drank the whole thing down in under a minute, ignoring the quizzical glance from Monty. As she poured a second, an intoxicating scent of vanilla and spice assaulted her senses.

  “So we meet again.”

  That voice did something to every tiny hair on her body. It rung smooth and deep like the narrator of a nature documentary—the kind with mating animals. Her heart thudded hard. When she looked up, Jamie knew it would be the mystery stud with a fake-sounding name. It had to be fake, or maybe she just watched too many suspense movies lately, having no cable out here.

  “You’re not wet any more,” he murmured.

  Is he talking dirty to me, or is he just being friendly? That sexy grin wreaked havoc on her nerves. She didn’t know how to respond. She’d had her flings in the past, but none of those men talked to her as if she should be petted and licked and plucked for hours. Or maybe she was too drunk or stoned back then to remember a man making her feel so flushed.

  Now she saw him up close, and he had the kind of features that made women automatically feel good. His skin was light brown, his lips perfectly generous, framed by a thick and curly black beard. The tight black curls of his short hair spoke subtly of his mixed heritage as well. He had a sexy, hard-bodied look that could easily grace the cover of a sports magazine. His biceps practically ripped out of the sleeves of his blood-red T-shirt—the color accentuating his complexion as if a fashion guru had picked the shirt for that purpose.

  Jamie sucked in a sharp breath. Her instant attraction could be sealed in an envelope. She blushed as his bold gaze swept over her. He studied her so intently it made a hot ache bloom between her legs. Embarrassed, she averted her gaze and looked back down at her drink as the corner of her mouth twitched. Maybe she should’ve made a double.

  But she couldn’t help a flirty response of her own. As Jamie stirred her drink, she forced herself to look back up and reply, “Such a shame I’m not wet anymore.”

  Her nerves skipped to life as he chuckled and eased against the counter on one elbow, his back facing the rest of the crowd. Apparently he didn’t care to be a part of the festivities. “Being wet is much more exciting than being dry.”

  “It is.” That’s it? You can’t think of something better than that? She cleared her throat and tried to come up with something sexy to say, something to really grab him by the nuts, but her brain couldn’t think beyond gripping his collar and yanking him over the bar for a kiss. She seriously wanted to know how those lips would feel against hers. “Do you like to swim, Mr. Daniels?”

  His hot gaze traveled down to her breasts, then back up. “Sometimes, but I prefer a steamy, naked sauna.”

  Jesus Christ. Right to the point. “Well, you can use the sauna any time you’d like, naked or dressed.” She shrugged off her growing discomfort. “Whatever you’d like.”

  “Whatever I’d like?”

  Her wide gaze met his and held. Her panties were soaked. Her nipples were tight, and by the heat of his gaze as it lowered to her chest, she knew they must be noticeable. Jamie wanted nothing more than to have screaming, hot sex in the sauna with this man right now, but she couldn’t. They had rules here, and staff could not have flings with customers. Such a shame. She had a feeling he’d fuck her silly.

  Jack seemed to catch on to her sudden withdraw, and gave a brief, almost disappointed nod. “So what should I do to pass the time? I’m getting a little bored of the old people in the room.”

  She held her snort of laughter in check. “Not everyone is old.”

  He looked over her body again, slowly, as if somebody had punched up the heat to a blistering degree. “How old are you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Thirty-one next month.”

  His grin widened and she saw what that golden gleam was from earlier. The last time she’d seen a gold tooth was on a music video. But it suited Mr. Daniels to a T, in a sensual, reckless, I make my own rules, kind of way.

  “You’re in your prime, then. That’s good,” he murmured.

  Jamie’s eyes widened again. Apparently she couldn’t hide her shocked reaction to everything that came out of his mouth. He sure had a bold way with words. By rights the powder on her cheeks should melt they burned so hard. “How old are you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Thirty-nine last month.”

  A warm sensation from the first drink—or maybe from the man in front of her—settled right between her legs. “I guess you’re in your prime, too,” she answered with as much sass as she could muster, and before she made a complete fool of herself, Jamie grabbed her glass and stepped around the bar. “Have a good evening, Mr. Daniels.” She left him standing there watching her, and went straight to Monty to pepper him with boring chat for the rest of the evening.

  Breathe. Focus. Breathe. Stop creaming in your panties.

  No man had ever been that brash with her before, and she’d never responded so easily like that either. She felt excited and nervous and more excited. Under the cover of her lashes, she watched as the sexy stranger poured himself a drink and returned to
his seat. She stared, transfixed and soaking wet as her gaze swept over his backside. God, his body was built like Granite Island which was only a short boat ride away.

  She looked away and chided herself. Since when did she react like a love swept dimwit to a man? Maybe it was the seven months spent in the grip of her vibrator that turned her into a desperate female. She hadn’t had a real man since Pete, and he was over a year ago.

  “I’m going outside for a smoke. Want to come with me?”

  Monty shook his head and laughed. “I just had one. I couldn’t bear to handle the corny steam at the bar a moment ago.” He plopped his arm across her shoulders, the weight of it pushing her down. “That’s exactly what you need though.”

  Mortified by his obvious meaning, Jamie lifted the glass and took a sip before answering. “What are you talking about?”

  He leaned down and whispered in a teasing tone, “I’m saying you should bang that guy. Hell, if I swung that way, I would. He’s pretty hot.”

  Jamie was just taking another drink and choked on it. “You’re completely insane. Valerie would fire me, and you know it. I don’t even know him”—she looked around to make sure nobody heard their conversation—“and I’ve never fucked a stranger before.”

  Monty pulled back and let out a loud bark of laughter. Valerie stopped talking, all heads turned toward them, and Jamie wanted to die. She stood there beside him, eyes wide, having no clue what to say.

  Good thing Monty quickly corrected his sudden outburst and added, “Valerie always tells the best stories, doesn’t she?”

  Even though Jamie and Monty had no idea what Valerie had been saying at the time, apparently the guests agreed with him. They all applauded the host and she basked in their attention.