Silent Warrior: A Loveswept Classic Romance

by Donna Kauffman

  John’s steely gaze betrayed none of his pain. His beautiful face was multihued, swollen, cut, and stitched. His arms, when she forced her gaze away, were also lined with bruises and more than a few cuts and scrapes. The rest of his body didn’t bear thinking about. The details assaulted her mind anyway.

  She looked back at his face, into his eyes. Her own were glassy. If T. J. and Scottie were still in the room, she was totally unaware of them. “I am so sorry.” Her voice was shaky and any second her eyes would brim over. Both things angered her; control was a prime asset these days and one she hoarded like a bandit.

  But if she was angry at her body’s not-so-subtle signs, she was furious at what had been done to John. “I should have never sent you that note.”

  “I’m a big boy, Cali. I knew what I was getting into.”

  His voice was tight, restrained. Because of the pain? Or was it anger?

  She stepped down again, one step from the landing, bringing them eye to eye. Less than a foot of space separated them. “I still feel responsible.” Her fingers twitched with the need to reach up and touch him, to caress his bumps and bruises, to check for herself that his pulse still ran strong, that his skin was still warm. Her gaze drifted helplessly to his half-swollen mouth. She longed to find out if he still tasted the same.

  Wrong path, Cali. You’re supposed to be saying good-bye.

  “Well, don’t be. I’m not usually so sloppy.” A snicker snapped at their attention. Cali caught John wincing as he turned his head toward T. J. “The peanut gallery is excused.”

  “Now, isn’t that gratitude for you? Save a guy’s bacon, and all you get is—”

  “A raise,” Scottie cut in. She grabbed T. J.’s arm and pulled. “Which will turn into a penalty if you don’t follow me into the kitchen.” She pulled hard, but it was like trying to move a mountain. He didn’t budge.

  “Aw, come on, boss, it was just getting interest—”

  “Now, Special Agent Delahaye.” She dropped his arm and lifted one beautifully shaped eyebrow instead.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  If Cali hadn’t been more preoccupied with John, she’d have laughed at the picture made by the hulking T. J. all but pouting as he dutifully followed his boss from the room. A smile curved her mouth anyway, when he turned at the door and shot her a wink, a thumbs-up, and mouthed, Give em hell, Cali.

  She winked back, but sobered instantly when she turned to John and found him studying her intently.

  “I didn’t know what else to do,” she said, her voice soft but not with apology. “I’d do it again, McShane.” She kept her eyes on his and away from his swollen mouth and bruised jaw. Visions of what his body must look like assaulted her no matter how she tried to squelch them.

  “You did the right thing. You saved both our lives—and the program.”

  “Did they find out—”

  “Not from me.”

  “I never doubted that. That’s why I called my father. It wasn’t right, what was happening to you.” She looked away, paced past him to the coffee table then back again. She stopped in front of him, hands clenched at her sides to keep from touching him, caressing his bruises. As if that would make it all better. The only thing that would make McShane better would be her staying out of his life. Permanently.

  “I couldn’t stand it.” Her admission was barely a rough whisper. She hadn’t meant to say it, not with such raw emotion. But she’d looked back at his beautiful battered face and there was no hope for it. She reached up but curled her fingers inward just shy of touching his cheek. His hand snagged hers before she could drop it to her side. She felt more than saw him flinch and tried to pull away, not wanting to cause him any more pain than he was already feeling. He held tight. Not knowing which was worse, she stopped fighting with him, just as she admitted that his warm, rough hand felt good wrapped around hers.

  She had a house full of highly trained professionals, not to mention the oppressive shadow of her father, focused exclusively on keeping her—and Nathan’s program—safe. Yet it was the touch of a battered, beaten man that made her feel safe.

  He pulled her palm to his face. She felt his ragged breath in the uneven vibration of his skin under her fingertips. She tried to cup her hand so as not to hurt him, but he pressed her hand more firmly to his cheek. His steely gaze locked on hers. “I wouldn’t betray you, Cali.”

  Was there more than determination in his eyes? Did she dare search for the answer? “That’s what worried me.”

  “I’m okay. You called in the good guys. They’ll get the job done.”

  “We’ll get the job done.”

  He dropped her hand. If there had been anything like concern or … other things she didn’t dare consider in his expression, it was gone now. Now there was only cold determination. This was Special Agent McShane she was dealing with.

  “You work on decrypting the program, let the team handle the rest.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Cali. You don’t have to put yourself in the line of fire. That’s what we’re paid to do, and we do it very well.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” She regretted the snapped-off words the instant they were out of her mouth. What made it ten times worse was the flash of emotion that briefly lit John’s eyes. “That was inexcusable. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It’s just—”

  “Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?”

  The intensity in his quietly spoken words made her stomach clutch. “Worried? About me?”

  “Yes. About you.” He stepped closer. Even black-and-blue and with a slight limp she detected now, she could still feel the harnessed energy that seemed to radiate from him. The idea of having that energy and intensity focused on her …

  She swallowed against the sudden tight ball lodged in her throat. Her stomach felt queasy. Her temples throbbed. At no time had this ever felt like a game to her. But for some reason the idea of him worrying about her while other men were beating him … It was too real. Too horrific. Too much.

  “Then I’m doubly sorry. I should never have called you into this.”

  “Why in hell not? You have other friends who do this sort of thing?” His attempt at humor was ruined by the continued hard edge in his tone.

  “Friends don’t ask friends to risk their lives. And we were hardly even that. We haven’t so much as swapped Christmas cards in ten years.”

  “You did the right thing, Cali. It’s not as if you could have looked in the Yellow Pages. You already told me the local police were of no help, and it was going to the feds that got you into this mess in the first place.”

  Her smile was hollow. “You stand there, more blue skin than tan, hurting in more places than you don’t, because you did a favor for me, and you’re trying to convince me I did the right thing.” She shook her head, her grin more real. “I don’t know which one of us is crazier.”

  “It’s no longer you against the world. The team will handle it. Scottie had no problem getting an okay for this.”

  “I can’t imagine Scottie having much of a problem getting anything she wants.” Cali had been impressed and just a tiny bit jealous of the woman sitting in the kitchen. John’s current boss was no small, frail thing. She was taller than John, broad-shouldered in the way swimmers were, but with a waist and rounded hips that gave her just enough curve to make her more knockout than Amazon. She had long hair, the rich shade of mahogany, that she wore combed straight off her face, making her average features somehow appear exotic. She was quick to smile and had a razor-sharp wit aimed at herself more often than others. It was totally impossible not to like her. She was the only woman Cali had met who could make jeans and a tweed blazer look like a power suit. The woman had presence in spades. Even if Scottie hadn’t earned her respect and admiration with the efficient yet compassionate way she’d handled all aspects of Cali’s problem, the fact that she’d moved T. J. when the man clearly hadn’t wanted to be moved was enough to put the wom
an high on Cali’s list for life.

  “Yeah, she’s one of the best. Del made a smarter move than even he knew naming her interim team leader.” There was no mistaking John’s sincerity.

  The twinge of jealousy returned. Only this time it had nothing to do with Scottie’s job performance. “I’m sure he did,” she said evenly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit here and—”

  “You’re not just sitting here!”

  Cali jumped at John’s sharp tone. She also didn’t miss the way he tightened up, as if bracing against the pain. “If we’re going to argue, why don’t we sit over here and do it.” She walked to the couch. “It’s hurting me to watch you stand there.”

  She sat down. John stayed where he was. “It’s killing me to think of you placing yourself in danger again.”

  Cali opened her mouth, then closed it. There was no doubting the sincerity in these words either.

  He moved closer. He didn’t let it show—a rule that was probably in the super-secret-agent training book—but she knew his evenly paced steps cost him. Her muscles tightened against the urge to reach out and help him as he lowered himself onto the couch next to her. About the very last thing he needed right now was help from her.

  The irony of that sentiment, considering their current disagreement, wasn’t lost on her. But no matter how deep and conflicting the emotions he aroused in her, she was not backing down.

  “I don’t want you to worry about me. That’s not in your job description.”

  “I’ve told myself that for ten years. It doesn’t seem to make a difference.”

  Again he’d shocked her into silence. Ten years? “I shouldn’t have called you then either. A man like you, with your sense of obligation …” An obligation he’d obviously never let go of. His loyalty to Nathan ran as deep as his loyalty to his job. Nathan had been the same way. She should have known. “But I had nowhere else to turn,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

  He laid his hand on hers. She didn’t pull away.

  “You didn’t this time either,” he said.

  She felt the pull of his eyes on her, let it build up, until she had no choice but to look up.

  “I didn’t mean for you to feel obligated to me. Because of Nathan—”

  “That’s not why I worried about you, Cali. My partnership with Nathan is not why I flew halfway around the world to find you.”

  “Then why …?” She shook her head and looked away. “You don’t have to tell me. You came. You helped me. Again. You probably shouldn’t have.” She looked back at him. “But I’m glad you did. And not just for the program. I shouldn’t say this, not with everything else, but …”

  Common sense kicked in at the last moment and she trailed off. Some things definitely were better left unsaid. The warm feel of his fingertips on her chin caught her off guard.

  He stared at her in silence until the tension between them was snapping sharp. “Yeah,” he said finally, a touch of resignation in his voice. “I know what you mean.” He dropped his hand back to hers again, only this time he picked it up. He examined her palm, then the back of her hand, tracing her veins and the length of each finger with the interest and focus of a surgeon. “There are many things I’ve wanted to say to you for years and knew I shouldn’t. So I didn’t. I got as far away from you as I could to keep from saying them.”

  There was no mistaking the not-quite-hidden need in his voice, or the matching look in his eyes. He’d reached some sort of wall. The problem was she didn’t know whether he wanted her to encourage him to go over it, or keep him safely on his side.

  There was a sudden surge of noise from the lower level, where Scottie had set up a command center of sorts. Both agents appeared from the kitchen and made a beeline for the stairs, with T. J. tossing out a brief, “Pardon us,” before disappearing behind Scottie.

  She looked back to John. “You need to go down there too?” She had no idea what she’d expected, but it had not been the flash of bleak resignation that crossed his face before he masked it. Also masked was any trace of the vulnerability she’d spied only moments earlier. He rubbed his fingers over her hand, his attention obviously elsewhere, then abruptly stopped the soothing motion, dropping her hand as if just realizing he was touching her. He shifted away.

  “Go,” she urged, thinking it would help them both to return to their respective corners. “This was getting us nowhere.” Liar. She had no idea where their conversation had been taking them, but it had definitely been somewhere. Somewhere she probably had no business going. Unable to shake the hollow feeling that accompanied that thought, she pushed to a stand.

  “I’d better get back to work anyway.” She gestured to the floor above them.

  “You’re not going down?”

  “If it affects this case, I’m sure I’ll hear about it at some point.” She wondered at the set look on his face. “Don’t think about locking me out of this, McShane. I’m in to the end. It’s my problem.”

  “It’s the country’s problem. You don’t have to risk your life beyond this point, Cali. You do what you do best. Work out the program. Without that, we have nothing to bait them with. We don’t need you as human bait. Leave that part to the trained professionals.”

  She didn’t want to argue with him. She was dying to know what he’d meant by his earlier statement. What had he spent ten years running from? Why had he been compelled to run from her at all? Dangerous questions, Cali Ellis. “Why don’t you head on down there. I’m sure that, whatever the situation, Scottie and T. J. would appreciate your presence in command central.”

  “No.”

  “Fine. Maybe it’s better for you to rest anyway. Can I get you anything before I head back upstairs?” As if she was really going to be able to concentrate with McShane anywhere on the premises and with all that unfinished business between them. “Something to drink?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “All right.” She turned toward the stairs, then paused at the base. Something wasn’t right. “You okay?”

  “Define okay.”

  One hand resting on the newel post, she turned back to face him. “Is something else going on here that I don’t know about? You want me to call Scottie or T. J. up here?”

  “I can’t block your involvement in this case, Cali.”

  Surprised, she said, “But you just spent the last fifteen minutes trying to talk me out of it.”

  “I said can’t. I want to. If there was any way I could, I would.”

  “I’m sure you could find a way to pull strings. But I appreciate you letting me do what I need to do.”

  “I don’t want you hurt.”

  How did he look so indomitable sitting on the couch, one foot propped on the coffee table, his body all banged up, his eyes so hollow? Hollow. “I don’t want you hurt either,” she said. “But that’s why I have to do this. Don’t you see, I can’t stand the thought of anyone else getting hurt. Or worse.” She couldn’t stifle the shudder. “It’s already cost too much. Nathan. You.”

  “I’m okay.”

  She stepped closer to him. “No, you’re not. And I’m not talking about the obvious.” He looked worse than beaten, he looked … lost. “What’s going on, McShane? Why can’t you do whatever you please with your team?”

  “Because as of nine o’clock this morning, I’m no longer officially on the team. That’s why.”

  NINE

  “What?” Cali crossed to the couch, stopping next to his outstretched leg, hands on her hips. “That doesn’t make any sense! It wasn’t your fault you were caught. You saved my life.” She swung around. “I’ll talk to Scottie.”

  “I wasn’t removed. I resigned.”

  She whirled back. Her face gradually lost color. John asked himself for the dozenth time in the last five minutes what in the hell he was doing there. He’d known going in that he had next to no chance of getting her to change her mind about using herself as delivery woman. But he’d come anyway.

  �
��It’s my fault. You’re leaving your job because of me.”

  Yes, he was. “It’s not your fault.”

  “You left the Blue Circle right after helping me. Now you’re leaving again. What am I supposed to think?”

  Good question, McShane. What are you going to tell her? I’m leaving became I love you? Because I need you when I’ve never needed anyone?

  He’d resigned. Technically, and for the first time in fifteen years, he was a free agent—in every way. He had choices.

  He rubbed a hand over his face. He’d been sure of the choices he’d made that morning. But now that he was with Cali, things weren’t so clear-cut any longer. He realized now they never had been. Ah, hell.

  “You’re supposed to think I know what I’m doing.” Though why she should when he didn’t have a clue was beyond him. He massaged his temples. “You’re supposed to think that any decisions I made were in the best interest of the team.” It didn’t help. There was no hiding from her. Ten years should have taught him that. He dropped his hand and looked at her. “In the best interest of you.”

  Her eyes lit on fire. “So that’s why you’re here? To make sure the team and I do what John McShane thinks is best for us?”

  He sighed heavily. He shouldn’t have come. He should have had T. J. or Scottie find a way to cut her out of the deal. He should have found some other way to keep her safe, some other way to say good-bye.

  “Cali …” He had no idea what to say.

  She stepped closer, sat on the coffee table so she was eye level with him. He couldn’t look away.

  You can’t run away either, his little voice warned. Not this time.

  “What about what’s best for you? What does John McShane want?” She huffed out a breath, swore softly, raked a hand through her already thoroughly mussed hair. He saw the fatigue etched around her eyes. Saw that he was adding to it.