Lisa Jackson - Secrets and Lies

Shaking inside, she walked to the door and opened it, silently inviting him to leave. Her voice, when she finally found it, was barely a whisper. “You did, Jackson. You’re what happened to me. And for that, you’re lucky I’m just holding the door open for you and not calling the police and demanding a restraining order.”

His eyes glinted. “Does this mean the wedding’s off?” he teased cruelly, and Rachelle’s heart tore a little.

“This means that I never want to see you again, Jackson.”

He crossed the room, but stood in the doorway, staring down at her. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

“I don’t think so. Just walk out the door, find the nearest plane and fly back to the East Coast. Everyone here was doing fine before you showed up. We’ll all manage to survive without you.”

“Will you?” he asked, skepticism lifting a dark brow.

“Go, Jackson. Or I will call the police.”

“And here I thought you’d be anxious for an interview with me.”

The man’s gall was unbelievable. But his reasoning was right on target. “Believe it or not, I’m not a Jackson Moore groupie,” she replied, knowing that she was lying more than a little. She’d already half promised Marcy an interview with Gold Creek’s most notorious son.

“You were once,” he said, and his voice sounded softer, smooth as silk.

Her throat caught, and she remembered vividly how she’d lost her virginity with this very man. She’d tried to blame him for that loss over the years, but she couldn’t. Even now she realized that she’d given herself to him willingly. But what was worse, was the knowledge that she might, given the right circumstances, do it all over again.

“That was a long time ago, Jackson, when I was young and naive and believed in fairy tales. I trusted you, stood up for you and told everyone how innocent you were. But I’m all grown up now and I’ll never believe you again.” She forced a cold smile she hoped would pierce that insolent armor he wore so boldly. “Even fools eventually grow up.”

His eyes burned black. “I’m innocent.”

She let out a slow breath, her fingers clenching around the hard wood of the door. “Innocent?” She shook her head. “I believe you didn’t kill Roy Fitzpatrick twelve years ago, I believe you think you’re here to clear your name, but, Jackson, we both know you’re far from innocent.”

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