asshole. She'd almost made him lose control. When she'd hit him, he'd wanted to hit back. He'd wanted to hurt her, to make her pay. Where had that come from?
Bracing his hands on the edge of the sink, he met his own eyes in the mirror. She's a job. None of this is personal. Do your job and go home.
He heard her voice but not what she said. "I don't want to hear it," he replied, splashing water on his face.
He was drying his face on a white towel, streaking it with blood, when he walked out of the bathroom. She was as he'd left her, on her side, her hands chained behind her back. Her flushed face was damp with sweat, her dark hair falling into her eyes. He could see why Layton Keller had gone for her. She was easily the most striking woman he had ever seen.
He knew, too, that she was far stronger than she looked.
She still hadn't completely caught her breath, and the cords in her neck stood out in sharp relief. With a hitch in his stomach, he remembered her bruised shoulder. The pain around that damaged joint must have been blinding when he'd cuffed her so roughly.
There was no choice, he told himself. She'd given him no choice.
Resting the side of her head on the floor, Alaina wet her lips, her gaze never leaving his face. "He probably had someone follow you while you were following me."
Mitch leaned against the dresser, draping the towel around his neck. "And why would he do that?"
"If he suspected you were milking the job --"
"I wasn't."
"Then why haven't you told him you found me?"
He let the question hang as he crossed his ankles and tried to puzzle a way to get her to tell him where to find Jonah. It occurred to him that she may have been a kidnapper and a liar -- even a killer -- but she was also a mother desperate to ensure that her only child was safe.
"Jonah is out there," he said. "Alone and scared. You're just going to leave him like that?"
Some of the tension left her body, like hope draining away. "He knows what to do."
"It's abandonment."
"You obviously don't have any children."
He stiffened. "My status as a father has nothing to do with this."
"If you had a child, you would know that I will do anything to keep my son safe."
He knelt beside her. He didn't know whether he should feel satisfaction at the way her eyes widened and she pressed back, or shame. "Explain to me how stealing that boy from his father kept him safe," he said.
She looked away from him, up at the ceiling. "I don't have to explain it to you."
"No, but I suppose eventually you'll have to explain it to a judge, won't you?"
Her gaze shifted to him, and her eyes shimmered. "I didn't have a choice. Layton convinced a judge that I would be an unfit mother. You watched Jonah and me for three weeks. Do I look like an unfit mother to you?"
He straightened, his knees cracking. "I have no way of knowing what kind of mother you were fourteen years ago, so that's not an issue."
"They took my child away. I was going to be allowed supervised visits every two weeks. They weren't even going to let me be alone with my son. He was my life. My everything. What would you have done?"
"This isn't about me." He strode into the bathroom, where he rinsed the towel and applied its cold wetness to his throbbing nose.
"It's at least partially about you," she said from the other room. "Layton is using you to do his dirty work. He's smooth and charming on the surface, but underneath, he's mean and cunning. You may think you know him, but you don't. Not like I do."
Leaving the bathroom, he stared down at her. "And I suppose you're the only one who knows the true Layton Keller."
"One other person knows."
That surprised him, and he lowered the towel. "Who?"
"My mother."
His surprise turned to irritation. "How convenient that the only person who can corroborate your claims is dead."
Her lips parted in shock, the angry color in her cheeks fading. "What?"
It struck him that she hadn't known, and he regretted his insensitive tone. Before he could
Bracing his hands on the edge of the sink, he met his own eyes in the mirror. She's a job. None of this is personal. Do your job and go home.
He heard her voice but not what she said. "I don't want to hear it," he replied, splashing water on his face.
He was drying his face on a white towel, streaking it with blood, when he walked out of the bathroom. She was as he'd left her, on her side, her hands chained behind her back. Her flushed face was damp with sweat, her dark hair falling into her eyes. He could see why Layton Keller had gone for her. She was easily the most striking woman he had ever seen.
He knew, too, that she was far stronger than she looked.
She still hadn't completely caught her breath, and the cords in her neck stood out in sharp relief. With a hitch in his stomach, he remembered her bruised shoulder. The pain around that damaged joint must have been blinding when he'd cuffed her so roughly.
There was no choice, he told himself. She'd given him no choice.
Resting the side of her head on the floor, Alaina wet her lips, her gaze never leaving his face. "He probably had someone follow you while you were following me."
Mitch leaned against the dresser, draping the towel around his neck. "And why would he do that?"
"If he suspected you were milking the job --"
"I wasn't."
"Then why haven't you told him you found me?"
He let the question hang as he crossed his ankles and tried to puzzle a way to get her to tell him where to find Jonah. It occurred to him that she may have been a kidnapper and a liar -- even a killer -- but she was also a mother desperate to ensure that her only child was safe.
"Jonah is out there," he said. "Alone and scared. You're just going to leave him like that?"
Some of the tension left her body, like hope draining away. "He knows what to do."
"It's abandonment."
"You obviously don't have any children."
He stiffened. "My status as a father has nothing to do with this."
"If you had a child, you would know that I will do anything to keep my son safe."
He knelt beside her. He didn't know whether he should feel satisfaction at the way her eyes widened and she pressed back, or shame. "Explain to me how stealing that boy from his father kept him safe," he said.
She looked away from him, up at the ceiling. "I don't have to explain it to you."
"No, but I suppose eventually you'll have to explain it to a judge, won't you?"
Her gaze shifted to him, and her eyes shimmered. "I didn't have a choice. Layton convinced a judge that I would be an unfit mother. You watched Jonah and me for three weeks. Do I look like an unfit mother to you?"
He straightened, his knees cracking. "I have no way of knowing what kind of mother you were fourteen years ago, so that's not an issue."
"They took my child away. I was going to be allowed supervised visits every two weeks. They weren't even going to let me be alone with my son. He was my life. My everything. What would you have done?"
"This isn't about me." He strode into the bathroom, where he rinsed the towel and applied its cold wetness to his throbbing nose.
"It's at least partially about you," she said from the other room. "Layton is using you to do his dirty work. He's smooth and charming on the surface, but underneath, he's mean and cunning. You may think you know him, but you don't. Not like I do."
Leaving the bathroom, he stared down at her. "And I suppose you're the only one who knows the true Layton Keller."
"One other person knows."
That surprised him, and he lowered the towel. "Who?"
"My mother."
His surprise turned to irritation. "How convenient that the only person who can corroborate your claims is dead."
Her lips parted in shock, the angry color in her cheeks fading. "What?"
It struck him that she hadn't known, and he regretted his insensitive tone. Before he could
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