Person of Interest

by Debra Webb

  His lab coat still looking pristine after a full day of seeing patients, he shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled up to her desk. “Do you have dinner plans?”

  Now that startled her. Was he asking her out to dinner? They’d attended the same work-related social functions numerous times, but never as a couple. She blinked, tried to reason whether or not she’d misunderstood.

  Had she somehow telegraphed her misery through the walls? Was this a pity invitation?

  He cleared his throat when she remained speechless beyond a polite pause. “I thought you might not have had time to shop since you’ve gotten back. Your cupboards are probably bare.”

  Oh, yes, this was definitely a dinner date invitation.

  Now she knew for sure just how little attention she’d paid to the men around her. If she’d had any question, the hopeful look in her colleague’s eyes set her straight.

  How could she have missed this? She’d had absolutely no idea.

  “You would probably be right,” she confessed, well aware that any continued stalling would be seen as not only a rebuff but rude. She reached deep down inside and retrieved a decent smile. “To be honest, I’m beat. I think I need a vacation to recover from my vacation.” It wasn’t until that moment that she realized how much her affiliation with the CIA had changed the dynamics of her other professional relationships. How many times had she lied to her colleagues about her whereabouts?

  Don’t go there. Not tonight.

  She pushed up from her chair, glanced around her desk to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything that wouldn’t wait before meeting Dr. Newman’s gaze once more. Disappointment had replaced the hope. “But I’d love a rain check.”

  Some of the disappointment disappeared. “Sure.”

  After a brief exchange of war stories about the day’s patients, Dr. Newman said good-night and was on his way.

  At that moment Elizabeth realized just how very exhausted she felt. A long, hot bath, a couple glasses of wine and a decent night’s sleep, she decided, would be her self-prescribed medicine.

  After rounding up her purse she headed for the rear exit. She’d already called Agent Dawson and let him know she was ready to go. When she reached the parking lot he waited only steps from the clinic’s rear entrance. He would follow her home and then maintain a vigil outside until around nine o’clock and he would be replaced by Stark.

  As she slid behind the wheel of her Lexus she regarded the necessity of this measure once more. She hadn’t really felt that the added security was necessary but Director Calder had insisted. She’d finally relented and agreed to one week of surveillance. If he felt that strongly, how could she ignore the possibility that he might be right? After all, ferreting out intelligence and analyzing risks was his business.

  The drive to her brownstone was uneventful. Before leaving her car at the curb she couldn’t go inside without asking Agent Dawson if he’d prefer to come inside. She’d spent the past three weeks holed up with Joe Hennessey, spending time alone with Dawson would be a breeze.

  But Agent Dawson declined her offer.

  She’d known he would. Dawson was far too much of a stickler for the rules.

  Unlike Hennessey.

  Or David.

  Wasting her time and energy obsessing over the two men she’d allowed herself to get close to was pointless. Why put herself through the additional grief?

  How had it been so easy all these years to move through life without getting her heart snagged? Work had been her focus. Until just over a year ago when David had lured her into a relationship. She’d thought it was time. Why not? Most women her age had already been involved in committed relationships. Why shouldn’t she? But it had gone all wrong.

  Another thought crept into her mind. Maybe she simply wasn’t equipped to deal with failure. Her academic and professional life had succeeded on every level. Perhaps the fear of failure kept her from taking emotional risks.

  “No more self-analysis,” she muttered.

  She unlocked her front door and stepped inside. Left all the questions and uncertainty on the stoop.

  Home sweet home.

  A long, deep breath filled her lungs with the scents of her private existence. The lingering aroma of the vanilla scented candles she loved…the vague hint of the coffee she’d had this morning.

  She dug around in the freezer until she found a microwave dinner that appealed to her. Five minutes and dinner would be served. A bottle of chardonnay she’d bought to celebrate the night before departing on her cruise still sat unopened on her kitchen island. Perfect.

  Lapsing back into her usual routine as easily as breathing, she set a place at the table, lit a candle and poured the wine. Just because she ate alone didn’t mean she couldn’t make it enjoyable.

  The chicken breast, steamed vegetables and pasta turned out better than she’d expected. Or maybe she was just hungry. She hadn’t realized until then that she’d completely forgotten lunch. She did that quite often. But so did most of her colleagues.

  The wine did its work and slowly began to relax her. By the time she’d climbed out of the tub she was definitely ready for bed and well on her way to a serious good night’s sleep.

  She pulled the nightgown over her head and smiled at the feel of the silk slipping along the length of her body. Practical had always been her middle name, but she did love exquisite lingerie. Panties, bras, gowns. She loved sexy and silky. Vivid colors were her favorites. Her bedtime apparel was way different from her day wear. David had always teased her about it.

  Cursing herself, she turned out the light and stamped over to her bed. She had to stop letting him sneak into her thoughts. He was dead. Creating his face on another man had torn open old wounds once more. She needed to allow those wounds to heal. Whatever her future held she needed to get beyond the past.

  She pulled the sheet back, but a sound behind her stopped her before she slid onto the cool covers. She wheeled around to peer through the darkness.

  “It’s just me,” a male voice said, the sound of it raking over her skin like a rough caress.

  She shivered. “Hennessey?” What was he doing here? Had something happened? She felt her way to the table and reached for the lamp.

  “Don’t turn on the light.”

  Elizabeth stilled, her fingers poised on the switch.

  “I don’t want you to see him. I want you to listen to me. Only me.”

  Her heart started to pound. What on earth was he doing here? Had he relieved Agent Dawson? No, that didn’t make sense. This was Dawson’s mission….

  “I don’t understand.” She wished her throat wasn’t so dry. Every part of her had gone on alert to his presence. Her hands wanted to reach out to him, her fingers yearned to touch him. She would not listen to the rest of the whispers of need strumming through her, urging her to connect with him on the most intimate level.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow. I didn’t want to go without…”

  He didn’t have to say the rest. She knew what he wanted. What she wanted. She could stand here and pretend that it wasn’t real or that she didn’t want it, but that would be a lie. Tomorrow he would be gone and if she didn’t seize this moment she would regret it for the rest of her life.

  Could she do that? Risk the damage to her heart?

  She pushed the uncertainty away. Her entire adult life she had erred on the side of caution when it came to affairs of the heart… but not tonight.

  She didn’t wait for him to say anything else or even for him to move. She moved. Reached out to him and took him in her arms.

  His mouth came down on hers so quickly she didn’t have time to catch her breath. She reached up, let her hands find a home on his broad shoulders.

  She didn’t need to see his face. She could taste Joe Hennessey…recognized the ridges and contours of his muscular chest and arms. She didn’t know how she could have done something as foolish as fall for this man…but she had. There was no changing that fact. The best she
could hope for was to salvage some part of her heart after he’d gone.

  His fingers moved over her, making her sizzle beneath the silky fabric. Wherever his palms brushed her skin heat seared through her. She couldn’t get enough of his touch, couldn’t stop touching him. Even the thought of taking her lips from his made her experience something like panic.

  No matter what the future held for either of them, they could have this night.

  His hands slid down her back, molded to her bottom. She gasped, the sound captured by his lips. He urged her hips against his and she cried out. Ached with such longing that she wasn’t sure she could bear it.

  Joe held her tightly against him, shook with the incredible sensations washing over him.

  He shouldn’t have come to her like this. He’d known better. For the past forty-eight hours he’d told himself over and over that she’d done the right thing walking away. It was the best move for all concerned.

  But he couldn’t leave without kissing her one last time. He’d thought of nothing else every minute he hadn’t been attempting to talk himself out of this very moment.

  He’d thought about that one kiss they had shared. Of the way her body had reacted to his all those months ago when he’d come to her rescue.

  He needed to feel her in his arms. He’d walked away the last time without looking back because she had belonged to another man. That had been a mistake. He should have fought for her. They’d had a connection. He’d felt it. So had she, he’d bet his life on it. But he’d walked away and tried to put her out of his mind.

  Impossible.

  Spending the past three weeks with her had only convinced him further that they had something special. All they had to do was explore it…let it happen naturally.

  He had to make her see that.

  She trembled when he reached for the hem of her gown and tugged it up and off. God, he wanted to see her body, to learn every hollow and curve. But the light would ruin everything. He needed her to know who was making love to her tonight. He couldn’t let Maddox’s face interfere. He crouched down long enough to drag her panties down her legs. The subtle rose scent of her freshly bathed skin took his breath.

  As he stood her fingers shook when she struggled to release the buttons of his shirt. He helped, tugging the shirttails out of his trousers and meeting her at the middle button. The sound of her breath rushing in and out of her lungs made him feel giddy.

  Together they worked his trousers down to his ankles, then stumbled back onto the bed with the efforts of removing his shoes and kicking free of the trousers.

  He peeled off his boxers then lay on the bed next to her. He didn’t want to rush this. As badly as he wanted to push between her thighs and enter her right now, he needed to make this night special. Take things slow, draw out the pleasure. Like it was their last night on earth.

  He slid his fingers over her breasts, pleasured her nipples, relishing her responsive sounds. Unable to resist, he bent down and sucked one hardened peak. She arched off the mattress, cried out his name. He smiled and gave the other nipple the same treatment just to hear her call out his name again. He loved hearing her voice…so soft and sexy.

  He kissed his way down her rib cage, tracing each ridge, laving her soft skin with his tongue. He paid special attention to her belly button. Sweat formed on his body with the effort of restraint. He was so hard it hurt to breathe, but he couldn’t stop touching her this way, with his hands, his mouth.

  He touched the dewy curls between her legs, teased the channel there and she abruptly stiffened. His body shook at the sounds as she moaned with an unexpected release.

  When her body had relaxed he immediately went to work building that tension once more. He nuzzled her breasts, nipped her lips, all the while sliding one finger in and out of her. Her heated flesh pulsed around him, squeezed rhythmically. Soon, very soon he needed to be inside her.

  Elizabeth couldn’t catch her breath. She needed to touch him all over…needed to have him take her completely. She couldn’t bear anymore of this exquisite torture. She couldn’t think…couldn’t breathe.

  She encircled his wrist, held his skilled hand still before he brought her to climax yet again. “No more,” she pleaded.

  He kissed her lips, groaned as she trailed her fingers over his hardened length. She shuddered with delight at the feel of him. So smooth and yet so firm, like rock gilded with pure silk.

  Her breath left her all over again as he moved into position over her. She opened her legs, welcomed his weight. His sex nudged hers and she bit down hard on her lower lip to prevent a cry of desperation.

  He thrust into her in one forceful motion. For several seconds she couldn’t move or speak. He filled her so completely. The urge to arch her hips was very nearly overwhelming but somehow she couldn’t move. She could only lay very, very still and savor the wondrous awareness of being physically joined with Joe.

  Eventually he began to move, slowly at first, then long, pounding strokes. The rush toward climax wouldn’t be slowed, hard as she fought it. She could feel him throbbing inside her. His full sex grew harder as his own climax roared toward a peak.

  They came together, cried out with the intensity of it.

  As they lay there afterward, neither able to speak with their lungs gasping for air, Elizabeth understood that she had just crossed a line of no return.

  She had allowed Joe Hennessey inside her. She, a doctor, had participated in unprotected sex. But worst of all she’d freely given over her already damaged heart.

  “Elizabeth, I’ve wanted to make love to you since the first time I saw you,” he murmured, his lips close to her temple. “No matter where I was, I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing you.”

  Her chest felt tight. A part of her wanted to confess to the same weakness, but that would be to admit that three months ago she’d already disengaged emotionally from David. What did that make her?

  She squeezed her eyes shut and blocked the thoughts. She didn’t want to think right now. She just wanted to lay here and feel Joe next to her. She wanted to let her body become permeated with the scent and taste of him.

  Just for tonight.

  “When this is over,” Joe said softly, “I want to see where these feelings take us. I don’t want to let you go.”

  When this mission was over…then there would be another. Clarity slammed into her with crushing intensity. And another mission after that. Each time Joe would be gone for days or weeks. He could be killed in some strange place and she would never even know what really happened.

  Just like before.

  She had known this would be a mistake. She couldn’t let herself believe in—depend on—a man who risked so much. She’d already gotten too close to him. Letting it go this far was crazy.

  “I can’t do this.” She scooted away from him and to the edge of the bed. “You should go.”

  He sat up next to her. It was all she could do not to run away. But she had let this happen. She had to face the repercussions of her actions.

  He exhaled a heavy breath, turned to her and began, “When I get back—”

  She jerked up from the bed, fury and hurt twisting inside her. “If you come back.” She hurled the words at him through the darkness, imagined his face—his real face.

  He didn’t respond immediately, just sat there making no move to get dressed. She couldn’t see him really, just the vague outline but she could feel his frustration.

  “I will be back, Elizabeth. I won’t leave you the way he did.”

  A new rush of tears burned in her eyes. “How can you make a promise like that? You have no idea if you’ll survive this mission much less the next one!”

  “Elizabeth, don’t do this.” He stood, moved toward her, but she backed away.

  She was too vulnerable right now. If he touched her again she might not be able to stick by her guns. She just couldn’t do this to herself again. It hurt too much.

  “I know you don’t want me to go,” he whis
pered, his voice silky and more tempting than anything she’d ever experienced.

  Don’t listen!

  She had to be strong.

  “I want you to go,” she reiterated. “I’m not going to fall in love with another man who can’t live outside the lure of danger. I won’t let that happen.”

  She had to get out of here. Nothing he said would change how she felt. She felt around for her gown, found it and quickly jerked it on. The sooner she put some distance between them the better off she would be.

  “Maybe it’s not too late for you,” he said causing her to hesitate at the door. She would not let herself look back. “But,” he went on, “it’s way too late for me. It’s already happened.”

  She walked out.

  A numbness settled over her.

  What was he saying?

  She shook off his words.

  Nothing he said mattered.

  She had to protect herself.

  This was the only way.

  Joe dragged on his clothes and pushed his feet into his shoes. A rock had settled in his stomach. He needed to convince her that they could do this, but she didn’t want to listen right now.

  A part of him wanted to track her down and make her see this his way. But that would get him nowhere fast.

  Maddox had hurt her. She was only protecting herself.

  Joe was the one who’d made a mistake.

  He should have realized she needed more time. Especially under the circumstances. For God’s sake, she’d scarcely gotten through giving him the face of her old lover and learning of the full extent of her former lover’s betrayal. How could he have expected her to fall into his arms and live happily ever after?

  Because he was selfish. Desperate to have her as his own. But he’d screwed up. Succeeded in pushing her farther away. Regaining that tender ground might very well be impossible.